A Friend Of Mine
by clueless in seattle
Summary: When he finds himself accused of a crime and many miles from home, Goren needs all the friends he can get.
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer:**__All of the characters are the property of Dick Wolf. I thank him, the writers, the directors and all the great actors who brought them "to life" for our benefit. Any "liberties" I have taken with them is motivated only by my fond admiration. _

**_AN:_**_This story is not set entirely within the accepted "canon" or strictly within the "storyline" for the characters as it is only officially portrayed by the TV series_. _**Please note:**"Bethlehem, AZ" and the people who live there are entirely fictional…and everywhere else I ever went across that beautiful state was full of wonderful people. I've also taken liberties with legal process…hey this is fiction…_

_**I got to thinking about Goren and Lewis off on their road trip and wondering what sort of trouble they could get themselves into…but I still can't decide if writing a sequel to **_**"A Wide Open Country"****_ is a huge and presumptive arrogance…or not?_**

_**A FRIEND OF MINE**_

**Wednesday 6****th**** October**

**_Mesa Creek Ranch, Bethlehem, Nr Flagstaff, Arizona_**

The Sheriff's Department of Bethlehem County, AZ had six officers and three vehicles. As dawn broke that morning all of them were turning slowly between the brick pillars of the ranch entrance. In the lead, the big Toyota _Land Cruiser_, usually favoured by Sheriff Arthur _"Art"_ Drummond for his leisurely drives round his domain and sometimes required for off road duties in rough _"high desert"_ terrain. And hauling _"numbnuts"_ from ditches in winter.

Occasionally they were locals got unlucky, but most often they were dumb tourists who laboured under the misconception all of AZ was a hot, dry desert all year round. Like Phoenix, about one hundred and fifty miles to the south. Didn't know this far north you got _"winter"._ Days when the temperature rarely got above freezing and when sudden and heavy snow could fall from October through to May.

People who would head up towards the Grand Canyon nearly ninety miles to the north and suddenly hit ice and snow, often in unwieldy RV's and ill equipped in every sense. That season was just about due to start and would keep Art Drummond and his five, all male deputies as busy as catching them speeding off Highway 40 did in summer. The two Chevy cruisers used for that and patrolling the town of Bethlehem, were in behind Drummond, who on this occasion had surrendered the driving to his newest and part-time Deputy, Walt Winterbottom.

The kid, for that was what he seemed to Sheriff Drummond, had likely suffered ragging all his life for that name, same as his father and grandfather had before him. But keeping Walt with him that morning achieved two things. Meant Art could keep his eye on a rookie, whose most dangerous job so far was to help break up a couple of bar-room cat fights on a Saturday night. And left his hands free to load the pump action shotgun.

There hadn't been a real murder in Bethlehem County, for thirty years. Not since Abe Tuckett caught his wife under some ranch hand in the barn and shot the pair of them. An action many felt he was justified in carrying out. But Art Drummond was taking no chances. The men he was after were city types from back East and that alone told you to expect trouble.

The small convoy stopped just short of the ranch yard that consisted mainly of corrals, in which a few horses stirred and looked hopeful that breakfast had arrived. And the sort of confused maze of outbuildings the Fraser family had constructed at various times since they staked out the place in the mid nineteenth century. When horsepower was the only form of transport and you often literally fought the weather, rustlers and the local Native Americans for every side of beef.

The entire police department of Bethlehem County got quietly from their vehicles, armed like they had an appointment at the OK Corral and spread out through the yard. Advancing from all angles on a beat up VW camper parked up close to the old bunkhouse. They just about had it surrounded when the sliding, side door creaked and moved. Luckily, that jumpy kid Winterbottom had his shotgun pointed upwards or any of them might have been killed when it went off.

As it was, a skinny dude, half asleep as he emerged part fell or part threw himself to the ground. Pants barely hitched and no shirt, the only thing he had in his hand was a pair of dark rimmed spectacles. Spectacles he even let go of when ordered to do so by Art Drummond as he lay there, well aware there was probably more than one gun pointed at him. But Art, Gary Newcombe and Jay Weaver had their guns levelled at the guy inside they had really come for. Big son-of-a-bitch like the witnesses said, as he sat up in the confined pull out bunk, his hands empty and in the air. Just as well, because Gary Newcombe had good reason for his trigger finger to be extra itchy that morning.

**_Major Case Squad, NYPD, 1PP, New York_**

Alex Eames was checking the contents page of file _"06/MC/601/AE-RG"._ Better known to her for nearly eighteen months as _"The Kersey File"._ For Doug Kersey, the victim of an unsolved or _"cold case"_ murder that had defied her and Goren to solve and one of the few that blotted their collective copybook of assigned cases.

The call about thirty minutes earlier from a Detective Johnson in Athens, Georgia might be the turn of fortune they had been hoping for during many months of frustrating investigation. He had in custody on other charges a local man, who when he was arrested was wearing a Rolex watch. Quite outside his league to own, but Johnson was a thorough sounding sort of man or one curious to know why the name of _"Douglas Michael Kersey"_ had been inexpertly and partially removed from the engraving on the back.

A few minutes with an electronic database and he'd come up with the name of a victim in New York City, who had lived for the first ten years of his life along the road in Atlanta. It was a fact about Kersey, Eames herself had almost forgotten since it hardly seemed relevant at the time and still might be, as she went through the contents making pencil notations. Of documents and evidence that might be of use to Johnson, though they both suspected the watch could have been through many hands since Doug Kersey was knifed under a railway arch and that watch the only thing which seemed to be missing according to his widow.

Before she turned to her computer to call up the electronic versions to mail to Johnson, Eames out of similar idle curiosity, got out from her desk drawer the US Road Map. It lived there permanently as a useful and regular reference tool. One for the last five weeks she'd been turning to usually twice a week. Each time when the latest postcard arrived from Goren, who had taken to sending them to her with that sort of frequency on this road trip he was making with Lewis. Towns and places famous and obscure between New York and Los Angeles and somewhere in the few lines he wrote, there was usually some piece of mechanical news.

The latest malfunction with that thirty-year-old VW it was insane for them to head off in and which would probably arrive in _The City of The Angels_ with very few of the parts it set out with. Eames sometimes suspected Goren and his college buddy were seeing more of the nations junkyards and parts stores, than they were of its countryside and sights that featured on the postcards. If the camper van reached California it might well sell for more than the pair of them paid for it, which was apparently part of the plan to help finance their flight back. Her suspicion was Arnie might well send them first class on CA's tax dollar soon as it crossed the border. It would certainly fit with his strategic discovery of environmental issues in election year. And be one way of ridding LA of a potential unwanted eyesore.

Eames smiled when she found Athens on the map and realised it was close to Royston or perhaps the other way round. Birth and burial place of Tyrus Raymond Cobb and according to Goren, still the greatest hitter in the history of baseball. They had debated or argued that one over many innings in the past or more accurately, idle moments in the car. Would do so again no doubt, when he got back from the six-month leave he was on and her smile was imagining the kind of clever excuses if he was here now, Bobby would be hatching. To persuade Danny Ross to let them head to Georgia. Mere co-incidence they might have time for a bit of sight seeing of course.

She was just about to begin calling up the sections of the file when her telephone rang again.

"Alex Eames, Major Case" she said shoving it between her shoulder and ear to leave her hands free.

"_Detective Alex?"_ said the male voice on a bad line in a mixture of panic and relief.

Eames frowned, remembering the only person who ever called her that.

"Lewis?" she said. "Is that you?"

"_Yes it is oh thank God you're there I need your help Bobby needs your help and…"_ he was babbling almost incoherently.

"Lewis!" she said firmly to get his attention. "Slow down and calm down!"

Easy to say and her own pulse was racing. There had been some sort of accident with that idiotic VW. Goren was hurt in some way, less than four months since he was almost killed along the hall.

"_Okay okay"_ came the breathless voice she could hear take a deep one.

"Now what's happened?" she asked with a sick feeling.

"_There's been a murder in this hick town we are at. The cops turned up at six this morning. They took Bobby too" _blurted Lewis._ "They held me for almost four hours asking questions and I didn't think…I believe that what I told them…which was the truth may have got him into more trouble…but I haven't seen him and…"_

"Lewis!" she barked again. "Where is Goren?"

"_In the local cop shop Detective Alex…shit…I think they believe Bobby raped and killed a girl and they can prove it"_

_**To be continued…**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Wednesday 6****th**** October**

_**Office Of The Captain, Major Case Squad**_

"No" said Danny Ross as he hung his jacket on the coat rack by the door.

Eames knew she had pounced on him the moment he came through the Squad Room door and that he hated that and if he'd been at one of those meetings pissed him off, she wasn't likely to get a sympathetic hearing. That was too bad. They paid him and gave him the badge to put up with BS from the brass, no one forced him to do it and she couldn't have stopped herself if he'd come in on fire and his first need was for an extinguisher.

"But we have no idea what's happening to Bobby" she insisted.

"More reason for me to say no then" he tossed a bundle of papers on his desk and headed for his personal coffee machine.

He took a deep breath, jug in hand. "What I mean Alex is you did all you could for now. Calmed down this Lewis character and told him to get a lawyer for Bobby who isn't exactly a vulnerable person likely to incriminate himself, now is he? I doubt even in Bethlehem, Arizona they didn't hear of due process. Where the hell is it anyway?"

"Just East of Flagstaff" Eames muttered. "But Lewis said…"

"Alex!" Ross said loudly. "You know as well as I do that whatever this local sheriff might think, Bobby didn't do anything. Probably be out on Main Street with their apologies before you even get halfway to JFK, never mind get to Arizona to bust him out of the local caboose or whatever you think you could do"

"I guess that's something" she murmured. "That you don't believe he did anything"

The Captain's head whipped around. "I guess it will be _something_ Detective Eames if you take a deep breath and remember just who the hell it is you are speaking to"

Eames swallowed hard. "Yes sir. I apologise. For the implication and the tone"

"Fair enough" Ross nodded. "Take this and sit down"

She did as she was told, taking a sip of whatever the fancy brew was this week and reminding herself she was a cop and to stop behaving like the kind of hysteric poor Lewis was when he first came on the line. It was a strange thing how when you needed to be for someone else, you could keep your cool. It was only after piecing together the story he told her she began to worry. And it didn't help that around her, several colleagues were exchanging worried looks and having hushed conversations by the photocopier or the fax machine.

Even Faith Dempsey, her temporary partner, had inadvertently helped to crank up her concern. By pointing out the Bethlehem cops had held Goren for quite some time to resolve a simple misunderstanding. Before quickly adding, things probably worked slower in the country or they had an outbreak of cattle rustling on their hands to deal with. It was a poor attempt to make Eames _"feel better"_ and Faith probably realised that.

"Did you contact Caroline Reese, Alex?" asked Ross as he sat at his desk. "Or more to the point any of Bobby's family? If anyone should go to Arizona, it's one of them surely?"

"No" she replied. "Not yet. There's only his cousin Alan down in Washington he's anything like close to or would go to much trouble on his behalf…the family…um…well they are pretty fractured sir…"

"That was my impression from what little Bobby ever said to me" Danny Ross said softly.

"And Caro is in Boston this week. I don't have her numbers there, they are not in Goren's folder he left with me and Lewis says though they are on Bobby's phone that's one of the things this Sheriff Drummond has"

"Of course. Did you try the hospital? Know which one she works at?"

"Not yet. Its Mass. General"

Eames saw him make a note of that.

"Leave that with me" Ross said. "Sometimes being a Police Captain has its uses and isn't just about saying no to hare-brained ideas from one of their best officers"

The flattery didn't help Eames too much as the Captain asked her to tell him all she knew so far.

_**The Police Department, Bethlehem, AZ**_

Goren sat in the paper suit was all they had given him to put on over his shorts since he was ordered from the camper hours earlier, with a small arsenal of weapons pointed at him. Just his luck someone forgot to pay the oil or propane bill or whatever fired the furnace in this place. It was the first really cold day they had since they entered Arizona from the north.

Though he wasn't prepared to dismiss keeping him feeling cold in the small two-cell detention facility might not be part of a deliberate strategy. Ever since he realised that this wasn't some foul up would soon get straightened out and he'd stopped _"co-operating"_ and invoked his rights to an attorney. How long he was waiting for one of those to come from who knew where might even be another strand of subtle pressure. Or simply a fact of geography in a part of the world where _"down the road"_ could mean anything from five to fifty miles to the next gas station.

But hitting him on the side of his head hard enough to make his left cheek swell was something else and their first stupid mistake. At least on the part of Deputy Newcombe, who had whacked him with a telephone directory he picked up escorting him through from the tiny interview room. For which, read the Sheriff's well-heated office. Adorned with the stuffed heads and carcasses of most of the fauna of_ The Grand Canyon State_, now minus one of each species large enough to shoot.

And at least he'd learned two things from the occupant of the next cell, seemed to be the town drunk sleeping it off. That he was on his own in there, which almost certainly meant they had let Lewis go. And why that blond deputy hit him before removing his cuffs. It seemed that Whitney Raybold, or rather the late Whitney Raybold aged nineteen though she looked closer to twenty-five when he met her two nights ago, was his niece.

Crime was personal to the folk of Bethlehem, the sort of town where everyone was related to everyone else and Goren knew the contusion forming on his face would be explained as _"a slip"_ in a wet hallway should anyone ask. The only other witness was that scared jackrabbit he thought they called Walt. If he'd ever been tempted to lay uncalled for hand or implement on a prisoner in cuffs, he'd have picked a rookie cop or the youngest to do it in front of too.

He blamed Lewis in part for this predicament. Told him just before they crossed over from Utah last week they should really strip down or replace the damned water pump. But no, once again he'd listened to him. With the result the intermittent overheating got worse and he wasn't standing on a corner in Winslow, Arizona where they intended to be. Nor was he getting lunch at that nearby RV Park they followed the signs to with the VW's radiator close to exploding. That turned out to be shut for winter.

Instead he was in jail, in Bethlehem and liable to be there until Christmas the way the things were going. The prime suspect it was turning into, in the rape/homicide of a waitress at _"The Silver Spur Bar"._ One who did drive a flat bed Ford and who Goren sincerely wished he'd never set eyes on. Or played a game of pool with her.

Sheriff Drummond's description of that it made it sound like they had sex on the table in front of the whole room and the two small bottles of beer he drank, a shocking and unheard of excess. In a place where the occupants must have averaged four large and empty each on their tables, when he walked in.

He couldn't blame Lewis for that. He was back at the ranch, quite literally, trying to fix the water pump. And the visit to _"The Silver Spur"_ on his way back from a grocery store, was because a bar was the sort of place you could meet the sort of guys might know where you could get your hands on a cheap replacement if need be.

As the observation hatch on the door opened with a hollow clang, Goren would not deny his heart skipped a beat when he saw Newcombe standing there. He wasn't scared of the guy but he was weighing up the options. Whether to let him beat up on him a little more if that was his intention or to retaliate. Except he wasn't the sort likely to come on his own if that was the case.

With him were that worried looking kid and a doctor. When he was ordered to strip naked, turn round and face the rear wall Goren did as he was told. The Walt kid should have been wearing gloves of course, as they bagged his shorts he'd been sleeping in and he didn't argue being cuffed.

There was little dignified about being subject to a physical exam for any evidence you'd raped a woman and Goren somewhat doubted the short, round bespectacled medic had done many. Throughout, including the combing of his pubic hair, he stared at Newcombe, who as expected told the _"slip"_ story to explain away the fresh lump on his left cheek. Backed up immediately by an uncomfortable Walt. Goren watched the guy trying to seem more intimidating by playing with a nightstick as they stared each other out.

"_Knew you would"_ Goren thought to himself as he saw Newcombe's blue eyes eventually flicker down to the part of him the doctor was inspecting for signs of abrasion.

_**To be continued…**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Wednesday 6****th**** October**

_**Office Of The Captain, Major Case**_

"…and apart from Lewis saying he's older than Clarence Darrow, I'm not sure this Henry Banks has done more than write a few wills and plead out a DUI in the last twenty years" said Eames.

"He sounds to me like he's inclined to believe the story the Sheriff has come up with. Even before they've got all the forensic results back. I had to tell him that it's not always a hundred percent possible to identify a hair as pubic, never mind who it belongs to without much chance of DNA"

Ross turned from the window where he was looking out over the Brooklyn Bridge, lit up for almost two hours since darkness fell.

"What's with that?"

"Oh sorry" said Eames glancing at her notes. "One of the shreds of evidence they are claiming they have against Bobby is a fair pubic hair found on him would be consistent with the victim's"

The Captain scratched his neck round the loose collar of his shirt.

"And before you ask sir I don't believe for one minute Goren had any sort of sex with this Whitney or any other blond" said Eames quietly.

"I…we…don't talk much about that sort of thing, but my impression of him has always been the women in his life might…um…have changed in quick succession at times but it's one at a time. And I think he's really in…very committed to Caroline"

"He's been away from her for five weeks and before you kill me with a look Alex, I'm just saying what this Drummond guy would say"

"Probably has" she muttered. "Though he's an idiot if he imagines he can break Goren into confession with these bits and pieces of evidence. He told me when he was with the Army, one of the ways they train interrogators is to put them through exactly the same processes"

"They do" sighed Ross sitting down. "And the police in Bethlehem may well know that themselves now. They called up earlier for his sheet"

"Shit" growled Eames. "And we let them have it?"

She glanced at the Captain "Yeah of course we did. Had to, though the Federation won't be pleased to hear it"

"I expect they already know. The Chief tells me someone has stirred them up and they've been bending his ear. And don't worry I know it wasn't you Alex"

Eames knew it was almost certainly Logan and that Ross knew that. When he heard what was happening to Goren, Mike had even taken up a collection to help meet any legal fees and expenses. The last Eames saw there was a fair wad of cash in his desk drawer and brown envelopes were arriving from all over the building as word got round. She said nothing.

"Why the hell did Lewis hire this moron you say is even trying to move Bobby from his _"no comment"_ line?"

"Little choice Captain. Goren isn't indigent, won't qualify for a public defender and Lewis said soon as he mentioned the case to a couple of other local lawyers, they refused to handle it. One even told him the victim is related to one of the Bethlehem deputies"

Eames could feel herself getting angry. "Shouldn't be allowed anywhere near the case"

Ross used a well-known four-letter expletive at that news. "Doesn't help either that Bobby and Lewis were off seeing the sights all day yesterday either. Had no idea what was going on at this…what's it called…ranch they are at?"

"Mesa Creek" said Eames. "They were on the Navajo Reservation thanks to this John Belray, seems to be the only person trying to help. Though Lewis said even that makes them look kind of guilty. With the water pump on the VW useless they went off there to try and pick up a replacement, as well as have Belray's cousin show them around places they won't ordinarily encourage or allow tourists to go. They suggested to him that he and Bobby were trying to fix the van without the locals knowing to make a get away. Or dispose of incriminating evidence miles away"

"Like Bobby would rape and kill some girl and then hang around for 36 hours because he's so attached to a camper van?" snorted Ross. "Be found only a mile away from the body?"

"Reverse psychology perhaps" shrugged Eames. "Thought because he was a cop he'd never be suspected or that he'd covered things up too well? Hate to say it, but if Goren was sat where Drummond is, I can almost hear him saying it"

"Me too" conceded Ross gloomily. "So what do I do Detective? Wait for a call from you tomorrow telling me you got the flu? A call when I can hear airport noises in the background"

Eames looked at him a moment. "Way things are going sir if it's not me it might be anyone of a dozen names out there or across the department"

"Hmm" said her boss. "And some of them would be far more of a problem than you out there with no jurisdiction and authority. I'd have Bobby and Mike sharing a cell in Arizona before I knew it"

"No comment Captain" said Eames.

She knew very well Logan was one of those threatening to demand immediate leave on some pretext. And had offers to go with him from people like Elliot Stabler and Finn Tutuola, who was once Goren's partner in Narco.

"You do have some leave owed you now I check the records Detective" Ross shifted some paper on his desk.

"You gonna tease me or tell me Captain?" she asked him looking him right in the eye.

"Five days. Do not get this Department in the shit. There are two tickets at JFK on the flight leaves at six twenty-five"

Eames smiled and then frowned "Two sir?"

"Uhuh. Seems you've got a volunteer lawyer to keep you on the straight and narrow" said Ross. "Paid for the tickets too. That is a first. Now go home and set your alarm for very early tomorrow Detective"

_**The Police Department, Bethlehem, AZ**_

Goren sat on the hard, narrow bunk trying to decide which to do first. Write a list of the things that lawyer should be doing or checking instead of helping the sheriff do his job or those of his minor blessings on a very bad day. The first of the latter was to thank the architect of the police station in Bethlehem. For almost certainly putting the cells on the same part of the heating system as the duty office. It meant he was warmer because that deputy, Jay Weaver, had no intention of freezing his nuts off all night.

The fact it was he and not Newcombe was a second, though Goren suspected Drummond was no fool. Knew very well how he got the bruise on his face and didn't entirely trust the man. Probably too why they'd let him have some of his own, obviously clean clothes from the VW he could just see through the window in the parking lot out back. Where they had towed it and claimed to have found an earring belonging to Whitney Raybold, whose real killer could be hundreds of miles away by now.

And even though he'd already adopted his _"no comment"_ strategy Goren would admit being tempted to congratulate them when they brought that up. In the version of events they tried to give him, he'd apparently kept that as a _"trophy"._ That was often true of serial sex killers, which proved someone read the literature.

Just a pity they didn't think through how that didn't fit with the version they were now trying to cajole him into admitting in a change of tactics. That, maybe a little drunk, _"things got out of hand"_ with Whitney after consensual sex and he'd hit her with a rock in some kind of _"brain storm"_ as they put it. Making it look like murder two, or even involuntary manslaughter after all.

But they couldn't have it both ways. He was either a sex killer at the start of his career collecting trophies or he was a guy had too many, lost control and perhaps, was provoked. But their introduction of the notion of the sex he'd not had with her being _"consensual"_ told Goren something else too. That they had found insufficient evidence like torn clothes or at autopsy to say for sure it was_"rape"_ or feel they could make that charge stick.

It didn't always follow women who were violated and then killed were obviously brutalised. These days even career rapists tended to use condoms because of DNA science. The type of findings consistent with_"consensual"_ such as evidence of spermicide and mild vaginal abrasion, made a rape charge hard to prove when the victim was dead or unable to say for herself.

Goren had not been shown the earring and doubted he could say for sure what type, if any, Whitney was wearing on Monday night. She had hair in a style known as _"big"_ made it impossible to say, as it fell and ballooned to her shoulders. And he wasn't about to admit he didn't pay much attention in that area and would have preferred not to notice the things about her he did.

But when a woman hauls down her t shirt to expose more cleavage before taking a shot and goes out of her way to almost rub her ass in your crotch as she moves round the pool table, you are kept pretty busy. Avoiding her as much as possible and hoping to get the game over as quickly as you could.

It was possible Goren supposed, _"an earring_" was some place in the camper he'd not noticed it in recent weeks. There had been women inside it including two ladies, old enough to be his Mom, that he and Lewis gave a ride to in Colorado when their car ran out of gas. And that redhead his friend picked up in Missouri meant he was left to wander the town for an hour, until it was decent to return. But he'd bet all of next months salary he wasn't being paid, if that earring matched one on the victim, how it got in the VW. By the same hand a phone directory had _"slipped"_ out of earlier.

Whether Jay Weaver had spat in the dinner brought in from a local diner before handing it to him, Goren had no way of knowing and didn't much care, since it tasted pretty damn good as did the apple pie for dessert. He'd resisted the temptation to pick over the stew too carefully for sign of contamination, for fear it spoke to a paranoia he was starting to feel might be justified. Supposed if he got a bad bellyache later or passed blood in the morning, he'd wish he had done and suspect ground glass after all.

And Weaver, either because he was told to or because he was a decent guy, had complied with one or two reasonable requests since he came on shift. Like a second cup of coffee and the pad and pencil. Hadn't even had to try and sell him the idea he might be about to write a statement when what he was really doing, was making notes of what he knew of the crime.

Force of habit he was supposed to be getting away from for a while and it was rather strange to try to wear the hats of the _"suspect"_ and the _"investigator"_. But it stopped him counting the tiles on the walls and Weaver had told him something else. Confirming Lewis was released and with the VW impounded, was thought to be staying with John Belray. It was the suggestion of the _"top hand"_ at the Mesa Creek that ended them there at all. He'd stopped seeing them broken down on Monday afternoon and offered them a tow to the nearby ranch. Said his boss would occasionally let people stay over who were stuck for a campsite and not too fussy about the washroom facilities of the old bunkhouse which were not five stars.

Goren wondered briefly what the difference was between a _"top hand"_ and a _"ramrod"._ Something he didn't think his childhood viewing of TV westerns would provide the answer for. And something he'd rather not learn as a convicted cop in one the Arizona State Penitentiaries, thank you all the same. It hadn't seriously crossed his mind as yet and he was certain of one thing. His buddy would have called Boston and chances were, additional help was on its way.

His one hope was that Caro wasn't too worried about him, would forgive him this latest nonsense, might be able to get to AZ and stay long enough for them to do the thing he'd never had any interest in doing with Whitney. And it wouldn't be in the VW with Lewis prowling around outside to put either of them off.

_**To be continued…**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Thursday 7****th**** October**

_**US Airways Check In, JFK**_

Eames paced the area by the doors getting anxious as the line for the flight got shorter and the large clock kept ticking. She already had a massive headache and she didn't want the bigger one of having to board the flight without her travelling companion and then have to wait for him to catch up. Which might take most of the rest of the day with relatively few direct flights, which meant changing in places like Cincinnati, Dallas/Fort Worth or even LA, having over flown Phoenix.

As she wore out the tiles, hands in the pockets of her jeans, she knew the main causes were simple stress and lack of sleep. It was late by the time she got home last night after using the resources of the NYPD system to access any shred of information about their destination might be useful. Mike had changed up bills to hand to her a quite astonishing sum he'd collected to cover their expenses and try to help Goren. Even Jimmy Antonelli had called her from the lab. Where he and others in the CSU team Goren so often frustrated with his own forensic expertise, had made her up a basic kit. Equipment and materials she might find useful if they ended up having to do some evidence collection for themselves.

That was checked with her other baggage and by the time she got home to speak to Caroline Reese and Lewis once again, Eames was in no mood for Dave Seaborn's response when he heard what was happening. Her fire investigator boyfriend for the last five months was only reacting naturally she supposed, by expressing his concerns. It was what they were meant to do, but she was in no mood to be treated the way she accused him of doing. Like a kid or being patronised was unfair and Eames knew it as the words were coming out of her mouth. The trouble was there had been one or two things lately made her think Dave was looking to get more _"serious and heavy"_ than she was ready for. Something they might have to address very soon and frankly.

Quicker than she might expect to if this turned into a wild goose chase after all. One she'd be happy to have been sent on if it meant Goren was free and clear to continue on this odyssey of his. In a piece of German engineering well past its _"use by"_ date. He'd do the same for her and it was one of the comforting predictabilities you could be sure of with a man not always known for that.

Eames sighed with relief as a cab pulled up and Ron Carver got out to pay the fare and collect what looked like a baggage cart full of items from the trunk. In the dark blue suit, camel overcoat and beautifully co-ordinated accessories he looked every bit what he was these days. A slick, big city, private lawyer unlikely to go unnoticed in the sort of place Bethlehem appeared to be. When they spoke last evening Eames got no clue why he was doing this for Goren. Other than the obvious regard for him so many had shown through the day once news broke. They had an almost six-hour flight for her to find out.

_**The Yard, Bethlehem Police Department**_

Goren shivered a little despite the PD windcheater they lent him, after him more or less demanding a period of exercise. He paced hands in front, since cuffs gave you no choice in the matter and he'd no intention of testing Newcombe's resolve on the matter of the area he was permitted to walk in. He was altogether too fond of that shotgun though his buddy Carl Hogan, standing by the gate was more relaxed.

He'd been fed breakfast, hadn't passed blood and persuaded them to let him out for a while. Goren knew he wasn't great in confined spaces for very long and while he was far from _"losing it",_ the more he could be out of his cell the better. It was the hours left in a tiny hole during his Army training that had come closest to breaking him then. Though what _Uncle Sam_ permitted during interrogation was at a whole other level to that any Police Department would be able to use.

He had also declined their invitation to speak with Drummond again that morning in the absence of counsel and learned as a result, Henry Banks had quit or been fired. The only person in a position to do that was Lewis and it wasn't until he was stretched out on the hard cell bunk with its inch thick mattress last night, something had occurred to him. Which rather proved to Goren how the mind does soon begin to fail you in adverse and distracting circumstances like he'd been subjected to all day.

During his questioning, Drummond had made mention of his cell phone and how he came to have Whitney Raybold's number in the directory. Goren had a suspicion or maybe two how that got there, but if Drummond had the phone he wasn't sure Lewis could have called Caro. He had a feeling she was unlisted in Boston and not always good in a crisis, Lewis might have forgotten about Massachusetts General being where she worked. And there was little doubt he must have been questioned as a possible co-suspect as well. In fact, there was possibly only one number, other than his folks, Lewis would think to call. One in New York.

If he had and was getting some really expert advice, things were not suddenly better so much as different. Goren turned his fully bearded face to the warm fall sun and the scrub desert landscape for a few moments more.

_**US Airways Flight 400, JFK/Phoenix**_

Eames rested her head against the seat and stared out into the clouds. She was no closer to learning why Ron Carver had volunteered himself for this unusual expedition and it didn't really matter. Whatever it was he was on board in every sense and she might have known from the time they were working together, Ron would come fully prepared. With more than just an expensive wardrobe of clothes.

As the DA once attached to Major Case, her own and Goren's working relationship with him began the same time as their partnership. It was rocky at times, especially between him and Bobby, but they kind of grew into it together and she liked to think a little of their unconventionality rubbed off on him. Just as his considered caution did them no harm on occasions either. Was certainly one of the best she ever worked with and all respect to Theresa Randle, who was operating under a different regimen at the top, Eames preferred Carver.

They had spent the flight so far, with her giving him all the details she knew via Lewis and it was no real surprise he sat for a while with his nose in a copy of the Arizona Statutes. But he'd also had the foresight to come with something else and rather proved Ron's ability to think _"outside the box"._ Eames had no powers as a police officer in Arizona and Carver had wondered if her relationship to Goren could actually impede any investigations they might need to do.

When witnesses they spoke to or the Bethlehem police discovered she was his regular partner. With more personal incentive to prove his innocence if need be, than existed even in the attorney/client relationship. So he'd taken the _"precaution and liberty"_ as only Ron could say it, of doing something else. She was now, according to a card in her purse, on the payroll of _Franklin & Levi_, his law firm. As one of their investigators, though whether she could follow his last instruction to _"get some sleep Alex"_ like he was doing, Eames was less certain.

**_The Desert Inn Motel, Bethlehem, AZ_**

"Sorry about this Lewis" said John Belray.

"Forget it John" he said unloading various and assorted bags from the Dodge Ram truck. "I understand and thanks for all you did"

"I'll be back after work this evening" said the top hand from the Mesa Creek Ranch.

"So long as it doesn't get you into more trouble man"

"Screw them" he shrugged. "What I do in my own time is my business and I might be able to help this hot shot lawyer and the luscious lady cop you got coming in to rescue Bobby"

"She's mine" grinned Lewis. "And don't you forget it _Running Through Mesquite With His Ass Hanging Out_"

The curse he got before the truck bumped across the uneven tarmac back onto the road was in Navajo. Lewis turned to the façade of the_"Desert Inn",_ juggling his belongings mostly returned by the cops and bracing himself. Mrs _"Ma"_ Harkness hadn't been delighted to see him yesterday, when she realised who he was and mostly who his friend was. But she let him book two rooms. Lewis understood the value of a dollar himself. About the only place to stay in town and now off the main highway, the motel must suffer severe competition from the chains like the _"Days Inn"_ lined the freeways of the US.

The single story looked more like a converted run of stables than anything else and nothing like it's more illustrious and sadly lamented namesake in Las Vegas. When they went by the other day, getting a tow from Johnnie's truck, trust Goren to know the place where Sinatra and the rest of _"The Rat Pack"_ hung out in its heyday was gone now. And that Howard Hughes bought the place in the sixties, when the proprietors wanted back the two floors he was renting in his bizarre seclusion.

Lewis had not yet given up on his ambition to persuade Bobby they should go to Vegas. _Maybe a spell in jail would give him more incentive to let his hair down? _Longer than it had grown in recent weeks and had given him the first chance in years. To tease Goren about the curls it tended to form.

He walked towards reception, the large and leathery-faced figure of Ma Harkness and that badly cross eyed son. Appropriately called Sonny. Lewis just hoped _"The Rat Pack"_ here was not the four legged kind. He never could stand them.

_**To be continued…**_


	5. Chapter 5

**Thursday 7****th**** October**

**_Department of Clinical Psychology, Massachusetts General, Boston_**

_"Of course we understand dear"_said Eileen Reese to her daughter.

_"You must go to Arizona. Your father and I can come up to New York another weekend. Perhaps when all this nonsense is over and Rob gets back? Will be nice to see him again. Such a lovely young man, though don't you dare tell him I said so. And compared to you…"_

"Mom!" Caro cut her off. "Not again please! David, Mike, Anna and I are all sick of hearing how we pick nicer people than we are ourselves"

Her mother chuckled. _"Your father and I did our best Caro. You should try to hang onto Rob…"_

"Mom I will be lucky to hang onto my job at this rate and there's something else I need to speak to you and Dad about" she chewed her lip and scribbled a tense doodle on her blotter.

"I've an enormous favour to ask you"

_"Won't I do Caro?"_

"Of course, but it's about money Mom so he needs to know"

_"In that case I'll go get him. I could use a break from that wretched new leaf blower. I swear he only got it because it's the loudest one they had. And most of the leaves seem to be ending up on the Lambert's lawn"_

**_Main Street, Bethlehem_**

Eames turned the rented white Taurus left to head into town. Ron had driven most of the way from Sky Harbor Airport, where the heat of Arizona had hit them compared to the cool days they were now getting in New York. It had given her some chance, finally, to sleep for a lot of the trip north she couldn't manage for long on the plane. A steady climb up the Colorado Plateau and those few thousand feet of extra elevation were proof what that did to the temperature and your sense of the season it was. They had stopped for lunch where the Interstates 17 and 40 met, their _"body clocks"_ still adjusting from the very early start, the flight, the time difference and aware they needed to make the best use of time once they got to Bethlehem.

She was very anxious to try to see Goren, assure herself that he was okay but Ron was right. She had no right like he did as his attorney to see him and Lewis could likely use some moral support at the motel. He'd called earlier to say Fraser, the owner of Mesa Creek Ranch, had made it very clear he didn't approve of his top hand letting him stay in his cottage on the spread. The friend and possible liar on behalf of a suspected murderer, that had already got the ranch more attention of the negative kind than Fraser was happy with. And since the cottage belonged to his boss, Johnnie Belray he'd felt he had no choice in the matter.

The twenty-mile an hour zone for the grade school seemed to stretch the length of the street, which meant they got a good chance to see one or two places of significance. Like _"The Silver Spur Bar"_ did almost look like it had been there since stagecoaches ran through. With a raised porch outside before the town had sidewalks and across the street the modern grocery store. _"Bensons Mercantile"_ harking back to an older version and where Goren had walked to Monday late afternoon to pick up some essentials. Before his fateful foray into the bar.

Their slow progress also meant there was plenty of time for them to be seen in the sort of place most people knew most everyone else and the vehicles they drove. Eames knew she wasn't imagining looks from those on the street when Ron spoke.

"I'm starting to know how _Virgil Tibbs_ must have felt" he murmured.

"Different time and place" Eames grinned. "Though I sort of feel the same"

She halted the car at the one set of traffic lights

"So long as I don't end up playing Sidney Poitier to Goren's Tony Curtis I'll be content Detective"

"Which movie was that Ron?" she frowned

_"The Defiant Ones"_

"Never had you pegged as a movie buff and you had better get out of the habit of calling me that"

"I'll try…Alex. And I suppose we all have our secret vices"

"It's something you would have in common with Goren. But then he knows a lot of useless information about all sorts of things" she stepped on the accelerator gently. "Give you something to talk about though? If you do get chained together"

"You're not inspiring me with confidence. Next left"

"Okay" Eames snorted. "I saw the sign! Never had you pegged as the co-pilot type either"

"Navigator" said Carver with a little smile. "Navigator would be a more accurate and apt word"

"You can discuss appropriate vocabulary with Bobby too" she said turning towards the direction indicated for the police station.

"I'll be out investigating the first male server I see at the local diner. He probably did it"

Ron laughed softly. "If only it was as easy as in the movies. But remember we are here to get Goren out. Not solve the crime"

"Tell him that too will you" Eames said as she drew to a halt outside and saw the shades almost immediately flicker.

Carver got his briefcase from the rear "I will. Any other messages?"

"Just give him a hug from me?"

"Is that before the kiss from Dr Reese or after?"

"Leave it to you. I'll be back in an hour for you Ron"

_**The Desert Inn Motel**_

The hug Lewis greeted Eames with when she pulled up onto the forecourt of the place was bound to be more enthusiastic than any going on in the Bethlehem lock up. They said very little to each other while that Sonny Harkness was about. His features were fairly unprepossessing to start with and it was not his fault nothing had been done or could be, for his bad eye problem.

But when he flung open the doors of numbers 4 and 5 and said this one had just a bath and the other a shower, Eames would not have been sure which he meant had she not been able to see the tub through the door at the rear. She had no idea what Carver might prefer but she had a fair idea she could probably use a soak later, so took that one.

Lewis looked like a very relieved man as he helped her in with their bags, though seeing Sonny and his mother at the end of breezeway watching every move, she decided not to leave behind anything except personal items. After what he had said about one or two things that had happened round here, Eames wasn't above suspecting they might snoop.

She was only glad Mrs Harkness was around to be seen and she had decided to take the room with the bath. The whole place had a_ "Psycho"_ feel to it would be amusing if the whole business was not so serious. The rather basic furnishings of the rooms seemed to date from the early sixties too, though everything was clean and seemed to work though the large TV seemed incongruously out of place.

But there was little time to be wasted as she had Lewis get in the Taurus and direct her round the area. So she could get a better sense of the geography and especially the route Goren had walked Monday evening. Which meant there were tracks, apparently size 13, right by the spot where Whitney Raybold's body was found. And when witness statements, including Lewis' own, put him in the area at the time of her death Monday evening.

It was Tuesday mid morning before she was found on Mesa Creek Ranch by a group of hands rounding up cattle. It was in that direction they headed first, but after all that had gone on she wasn't about to provoke Zak Fraser by going uninvited onto his land. Lewis said you could see more or less the main features from the road anyway.

"You know I never did know your first name" she said as they turned left from the motel.

"I'd rather not say" Goren's buddy of almost thirty years growled.

"I could check you know" she teased him. "It was how I found out Goren's middle name"

"I suppose you could Detective Alex. Difference is you still respected him afterwards"

Eames laughed as much because things felt so much better to just be here and doing something. "You must stop calling me that Lewis"

"Can I call you darling instead?"

"Not until you get a haircut" she snorted.

**_To be continued…_**


	6. Chapter 6

**Thursday 7****th**** October **

**_Police Department, Bethlehem_**

Even if he had not known Robert Goren and the kind of man he was, Ron Carver would have considered the way Deputy Gary Newcombe went about admitting him to the cell, excessively zealous and bordering on humiliating. Was plain through the observation hatch he was asleep on his bunk with the_"Arizona Republic" _across his chest at what looked to be the crossword.

But he said nothing as the officer he knew was related to the victim made Bobby stand up, face the rear wall and _"assume the position"_ hands high and on it while he unlocked the door. Seeing, despite the beard, the large bruise high on Goren's cheekbone and sensing in the look he gave the younger man, the dumb insolence with which he was complying with the latest indignity.

A man who wasn't found guilty of anything and might ordinarily have been expected to be bailed _"pending"_ on the basis of the evidence Ron knew of so far. Especially if he were an AZ resident but Goren was not that, his camper van was impounded and with other things confiscated for forensic exam and investigation he was effectively without resources. Other than those of Lewis.

Sheriff Drummond had more or less admitted as much during their brief meeting, where Carver had demanded copies of everything before he left and fired a series of questions at him so fast he merely answered. Didn't have time to come up with partial answers or frame them to suit his purpose. One of which was confirming they were not investigating anyone else for the murder.

The law in Bethlehem County as personified was not, as Ron had half wondered, a fat and sweaty man like Rod Steiger had played so well, though he suspected the colour of his own skin was a surprise to the man. If anything, with his thinning and obvious dyed black hair and white abundant moustache and eyebrows, Drummond put Carver in mind of a lanky version of the plump, stuffed raccoon on one of his window ledges. A somewhat startled one as he also agreed _"his client"_ had not resisted arrest, offered full co-operation until he saw which way the wind was blowing and that he knew he had an unblemished record as a police officer.

As the door shut behind him, Ron called out. "Leave the hatch open Deputy"

"Y'all supposed to have a private meeting" he growled.

"And it will be Officer" said Ron smoothly. "Soon as you go through the door at the end of the hall and lock it behind you. Unless you think a New York City lawyer can slither through those bars taking his client with him"

Goren's face broke into a brief smile as Newcombe retreated, slamming the door at the end of the short hall and Ron glanced over his shoulder to see along it and be sure he was gone.

"He must think we don't have grandmother's to teach us to suck eggs in New York, Bobby"

"Something like that" he held out his hand. "Now you are a surprise Ron, but a welcome one"

Carver took it in both of his. "Hello Bobby. I'm supposed to hug you on behalf of the lady who travelled with me. Who brought a major case of luggage and kiss you for the one flying in from Boston tomorrow"

Goren grinned as he realised exactly what his now attorney had said and that Lewis, bless his stinky socks, had phoned that other number in New York he thought he might.

"Take a seat Mr Carver. Though I can only offer you the bed or the john I'm afraid"

"This will be fine" he sat on the bed. "Who hit you Bobby?"

"Our friend Newcombe tells me I had a slip on the wet floor out there. One I don't recall"

"Bastard" muttered Ron flipping through the papers. "So which of them is the one we can trust?"

Goren sat down. It felt like old times as Carver had worked out he would have been getting to know his jailers more than they would have him.

"Between Weaver and Hogan. Drummond is okay but just looking to re-election next year and lazy, Newcombe you know about and has Winterbottom, the rookie part timer, under his spell. Madison I hardly saw and he's also part time"

"Good. Now we don't have a lot of time Bobby. I want to be over in Rider Park to file for a writ. Hopefully get you out of here tomorrow"

"But…"

"We'll come back to all those issues. Ms Eames is out now scouting the scene with Lewis and this…um…Johnnie Belray looks like he could be helpful in terms of the local context. He's meeting us later and…"

"Ron!" said Goren loudly to shut him up.

"I just wanted to say thanks very much for coming and to ask you. How are…Alex and Caro? Half of what is driving me nuts in here, is wondering about them and what they must be thinking"

"Of course" said Carver gently.

He mentally kicked himself for forgetting Goren must be having the same concerns any other man would in his position. He needed to start treating him like _"a client"_ and not just the smart detective he mostly knew him as. Nor did he think for one moment a word would ever be said about what they both knew was a large part of his motivation for being here. Goren might just have saved his marriage for him a few months ago.

**_Rear of "The Silver Spur Bar"_**

Eames and Lewis stood beside the Taurus in the hard packed dirt parking lot of the bar. She with field glasses to her eyes.

"So how did Goren know he could cut across this way and take a short cut? Was it this Whitney told him?"

"When I saw him that night he said one of the guys in the bar he spoke to told him there was a gate this side would shorten the return trip" said Lewis. "It was getting dusk and I'm sure he took a flashlight with him. Bobby would"

"Yeah he would" she said dropping the glasses and turning to the hood of the car.

On it rested Goren's leather notecase. The one in August he'd left with her for safekeeping until he returned to the job in spring and which was so much a part of him. If you were ever some place and needed to point out her partner you either said, _"look for the tallest guy here"_ or _"the one with the leather folder"_. It had been in her bottom left drawer at work waiting on next March and it was either impulse or sentiment to bring it with her.

Inside, she added a note that they must walk that route to check the timings. That idiot Banks had said Bobby was _"vague"_ on certain times but then she had also learned that aside from being on an extended vacation when it rarely mattered, Goren had not worn his watch in days. How could he be _"specific"_?

So far they had seen the taped, semi-official pull off where Whitney's small and elderly Ford pickup had eventually been found. Carver should be finding out what kind of search, if any, was mounted for her Monday night but when they drew up on the road it was hard to see all of the U shape behind bushes. The official line was that from there she'd gone through another gate in the post and wire fencing to the holding pens you could just about see from there. For a pre-arranged assignation with Goren and where they had sex.

The assignation alleged because of the witnesses claimed they were openly flirting in the bar and they were seen in this parking lot talking, after Bobby had said his farewells. Lewis was saying when he finally got back to the camper that evening, Goren had mentioned some waitress had come onto him like a drunken prom queen. It made no sense if he'd then bashed her head in with a rock he'd ever mention her, but then logic wasn't to the forefront in all this so far.

Lewis it seemed had made that very point to Drummond when he was being questioned. With the response it was just prowess boasting between guys because he got himself laid and the suspect may not have realised he'd killed her. _Perhaps she laughed because he couldn't get it done or something like that? Did he know if his buddy had trouble "down below"?_

"And you didn't hear there was a murder until they took you both in?"

"Nah" said Lewis kicking at a stone. "We borrowed Johnnie's truck early next morning to head for the Res. Time we found a water pump and Bobby had his cousin show him round all the history and anthropology stuff and had dinner it was close to ten when we got back. The hands might have been round the old bunkhouse earlier getting a shower and changed were long gone. And those who live like him in cottages on the place, I don't suppose either knew we were back or thought to come tell us"

"Explains why they wanted to know just what you did all day Tuesday" Eames muttered.

"Whether we dumped or burned bloody clothes somewhere?" he shrugged "We do occasionally talk about his job Alex. Not just women, football and cars"

"Spare me" she laughed. "But I guess there's hours of that day you have no witnesses for. Other than each other I mean"

"Uhuh. And if I hadn't gone off to poke around that old farm machinery and then fallen asleep in the bunk house bath, I would be a better witness to when Bob got back Monday night. All I know was he was in the clothes he left in, though those a-holes don't believe me"

At that moment a rear door open and a man in a dirty white apron stepped out.

"Who the hell are you?" he called. "This is private property"

"This is a parking lot for patrons sir" Eames called back.

"Customers is inside. You ain't inside lady. And he looks like the buddy of that psycho drifter they got down the jail fer killing my waitress. Clear off right now! The pair of you"

"My pleasure" she called back and gestured Lewis back to the Ford.

"So much for the sort of fair trial you might get round here" spat Lewis. "A hundred years ago and they would have strung Bobby up by now"

As they drove down the side of the building a very bow legged old-timer was coming down the alley and flagged them down. He seemed harmless, so Eames stopped and flicked the window switch.

He barely stopped, but after spitting tobacco juice on the ground he said. "Whatever folks might be making out now, that Whitney was the good time had by all round these parts. Ask Ed Creasy"

With that he went on and seeing a truck pulling in, Eames did not stop and ask more of the elderly man. But as they drove back towards the Police Station to pick up Ron, it was Lewis who spotted _"Creasy's Auto Sales"_ down one of the side streets. Eames smiled as she sensed him writing which one down in Goren's folder.

_**To be continued…**_


	7. Chapter 7

**Thursday 7****th**** October**

_**Room 5, The Desert Inn Motel**_

By the time they all gathered in Eames' room that evening, they had done nothing that proved once and for all that Goren was innocent but they had made progress of sorts. For Ron Carver that seemed to be two things as he sat down at the table. Most recently to have got a shower and changed out of the clothes he'd been in for almost eighteen hours by then.

The old jeans and sweatshirt he was wearing as he spread some material out also re-assuring Lewis that he wasn't the _"stiff"_ he maybe came over at times, though he was joyful as anyone might be earlier. When Eames and Carver came down the courthouse steps in nearby Rider Park, having achieved the first part of his ambition. Getting a Judge Jesse Thomas to hear his urgent application to have Goren released next day or have Art Drummond obliged to charge him formally.

As Ron warned Lewis, that in some ways was the easy part. Convincing him and meeting any conditions could be harder, which was why one of Lewis's tasks while they were inside was to call _Luke Air Force Base_ near Phoenix. Eames knew Ron would also use every legal argument he could find and probably do as much homework as he could in a strange and not altogether friendly place on the Judge. Whether he had contacts in Arizona Eames had no idea, nor until the issue of surety came up, that he'd spoken to Caro Reese about that last evening.

It was one thing had bothered her no matter how generous the donations to Mike Logan had been but she understood why he'd wanted to speak to Goren before telling her what was said. They had also in the car, at a highway diner where they ate and since getting back, taken chance to pick more holes in the case building against her partner.

Their suspicion was growing too, that either gross mishandling or deliberate interference had occurred with some physical evidence. Like the amount of sand and dirt found in or on Goren's clothes he said himself he was wearing on Monday evening. That was being used as_"proof"_ he must have rolled around on the ground with Whitney either during sex or during a fight. Except Lewis had seen the end of what looked a highly inappropriate search of the camper in the police yard. Seen things tossed on the ground in the corner where there was an unpaved area. The clothes could have got accidentally dirty then.

Not only that, Lewis knew Goren and his habits well enough living in almost too close quarters with him for five weeks. No way would he have trailed clothes he knew were that messy inside the confined space. Not without brushing down first. Something Eames had to say she couldn't support as fact, but her impression was he was fairly fussy about that sort of thing even with casual clothes.

"Now what about the pubic hair?" said Ron. "At least alleged blonde pubic hair. Apparently found in a button hole of the shorts Bobby was sleeping in the morning he was arrested"

"Exactly why it's bullshit" said Lewis setting down the coffee he'd bought having had one vile cup of what the motel provided.

"He only ever sleeps in those old things. Would not have been wearing them that night that time. He wears totally different underwear by day"

"Don't look at me" grinned Eames.

"I'm not really" blushed Lewis. "It's just…well…does it matter why he does Ron?"

"No. But we have no time for a lot of modesty here Lewis or perhaps well intentioned deceit" he looked up over his spectacles.

"Bobby says since he left on this trip he's not…um…had contact at all of that sort could permit transfer. If you can say otherwise Lewis please do so now. I don't want some cocktail waitress from Wyoming popping up if this ever goes to trial"

"No. He's not. I can't account for every minute of his time of course but no. Not his style. Never has been. Not when he's serious about someone"

"So when was the longest you were apart?" asked Carver.

"I thought…"

"Just tell him Lewis" said Eames kindly. "He's just asking what a prosecutor might ask you"

"Sure" he said "Sorry. The longest time was last weekend. Three days and two nights he was messing around on that freaking trail up and down the canyon. I suppose he might have met a woman down there, but the party he went with was three other guys. Plus a male guide"

"You didn't go?"

"No way Alex" spluttered Lewis. "Might have been his life's ambition but I didn't want to risk ending my life falling off side of a big hole in the ground. Impressive though it is. I stayed up top and…and oh shit… I just thought of what Bob once said about accidental transfer"

"Go on" urged Carver.

Lewis shifted uncomfortably. "While Bobby was playing mountain goat with a bunch of mules and other lunatics I…um… I got acquainted with a young lady called Susie…works in the dining room of one of the lodges on the South Rim"

"Intimately acquainted?" asked Carver. "In the VW?"

"Enough to know she was a genuine blonde" he said very quietly flushing a deep red Eames found kind of cute.

"Is it possible one of her…um…could have got transferred that way?"

"How do you store your bedclothes?" asked Eames.

"There's really only one pull out double bunk. Apart from anything else Bob is a like a furnace to sleep beside…not as you would know that of course Detective Alex…so we have a sheet each we sort of fold over us and separate blankets. By day if it's him, they get neatly folded up into the storage space under the seat. If it's me I tend to bundle everything up together"

"So it's possible you don't use the same one each night or his shorts got wrapped up in a sheet you and this Susie used less than a week ago?" clarified Carver.

"Very possible"

"Good" said Ron steepling his fingers. "Write down the young ladies name and any other details you have Lewis"

"Heck" he muttered but began to comply.

Eames pulled over the pictures of the dead girl and peered at them as Lewis avoided looking anywhere near them.

"Bobby's better at this stuff than me" she began "But judging by these pictures and the report, the blow killed her is more from the back. Like she was struck from behind? And being a southpaw surely Goren would have hit her on the left side, not the right"

"Is he that hand dominant Alex?"

"For something like that yes" she mused. "Though I guess had they been struggling on the ground or facing each other it could work that way"

"Yet he shows no sign of any scratch marks on his hands or body or face would indicate defensive wounds. What does it say about her fingernail scrapings?"

"Negative Ron apart from soil and sand. Which matches with the probability she didn't die instantly. Subdural haematoma so she might have been conscious or semi so for a time. Dug her hands into the ground to try to move or get up"

"And I don't think we can dispute the probability she might have been hit where she was found or a few yards away at the corral thing and moved. The killer might have just dropped the rock by the corral fence and then shoved her in that thicket to delay discovery"

Lewis set down his coffee cup. "She still might not be, except by coyotes, had the hands not driven a whole bunch of cattle to those pens Tuesday morning. That must have screwed up some evidence that might have helped Bobby"

"Certainly didn't help, though the way things have gone maybe we should be grateful" shrugged Ron.

"They could have easily found circumstantial stuff could count against Bobby. And that's all they have really. Apart from that earring, which is a problem. And I don't believe that blood on his pants will come back as other than his, where you say he cut himself a few days earlier. Everyone seems agreed what he was wearing that night and they can hardly have mistaken tan chino's for blue jeans"

"Nor can Drummond have it both ways" muttered Eames

"Say the sand on the chino's is proof Goren rolled round with her and then try to say he went back to the camper and changed his pants to kill her. That's the only way her blood could get on them. The one thing this Newcombe most like, could not have easily tampered with is blood. She was in the morgue in Flagstaff before he got anywhere near Bobby's clothes"

"I'll e-mail the medical and forensic reports we have so far back to New York" said Ron. "We can't use the same labs in Flagstaff and there isn't time to really make contact with one in Phoenix at this stage. There's one Federal approved down there I'll use if we have to for trial"

"Is there anything you didn't think of Ron?" asked Lewis with some awe in his tone. "That you've got people lined up to help at home?"

"They lined themselves up Lewis" he shrugged.

"Oh yes" said Eames softly.

"What?" asked Lewis fearfully.

"Just a moment"

She hurried to the kit CSU made up and found inside a magnifying lens she put on one of the photographs. "Got you, you son of a bitch"

"What?" asked Bobby's friend again.

"My, my" said Carver with a satisfied smile as he looked.

"I think we just discredited not just one piece of evidence but can now argue taint on quite a lot more"

Lewis looked for himself, shuddering at one of the pictures of the dead girl taken at discovery of the body but concentrating at the head where he saw the others looking.

"I can just about see what looks like two earrings" he said quietly.

"So how did they find one in the camper? Or rather they didn't. They put it there…is it possible someone was alone with the body for a while Alex…someone like her uncle…and I'm sure when he was questioning me he said something …like he saw her for himself?"

"He made the initial ID" said Eames checking a report. "Took that earring while he was being given respectful privacy and fully intended to plant it on the first likely suspect"

"Which turned out to be us…or more Bobby when they found out who she was seen with that night and tracked his damn great footprints from the bar to that area and back to the yard. That Deputy didn't realise this one picture showed the two earrings"

"We'll make a detective of you yet Mr Lewis" said Ron removing his spectacles.

"I hope not" he muttered as there was a knock at the door.

_**To be continued…**_


	8. Chapter 8

**Thursday 7****th**** October**

_**Room 5, The Desert Inn Motel**_

When Eames opened the door all she saw at first was how handsome the man was who seemed to fill the frame. It was only with more time, she realised Johnnie Belray wasn't as large as he first seemed, standing under the dimly lit breezeway of the motel.

Just over six feet, but very well served by the narrow, straight-leg blue jeans. They just emphasised the trimness of his waist, the well-developed thigh muscles and how nicely his other attributes filled the denim. Including, as he walked by her, a butt like two marbles in terms of size and shape and with firmness, _Levi Strauss_ was not assisting in any way.

Trying to stop her jaw dropping open at the beautiful cheekbones, the wide smile, teeth as white as his shirt and dark eyes really were pools you could drown in, Eames convinced herself she must have a previously undiscovered _"cowboy fantasy"_. That somewhere in her sexual psyche for years, had been a dream man wearing boots, a leather vest and a black Stetson hat. Feeling she was acting like a schoolgirl to immediately think her hair was a mess, her make up was in need of re-applying and suddenly conscious of what she was wearing and for how long.

The only good thing as he came into the room and removed the hat, was you got a better light. In which to see the few wrinkles in his face and the streaks of white/grey in the dark hair, which was worn loose and down to his shoulder blades at the back. Except as Lewis offered him some coffee and Eames sat down, that just made you realise he was maybe a lot closer to forty than the far too young, twenty-five was her initial impression.

It was Belray gave her the _"get a grip Alex"_ she needed, when the first words out of his mouth after introduction to Ron, was to ask how Goren was doing in the jail. Reminded her why she was here, made her stop thinking of that _"spare a horse, ride a cowboy"_ saying and focus on her notes. Only later, soaking in the bath, did Eames really remember Dave Seaborn and deliberately avoid thinking of the moral dilemma she might have. In a purely hypothetical and not going to happen situation.

The top hand at Mesa Creek Ranch was as good as his word to in trying to help them. Seemed plain in his brief acquaintance with Goren and Lewis he'd got to like them and Eames never got the sense though he'd been born and raised probably quite poor locally, he was motivated by spite. Towards people or a community, who because of his race, might have been mean when he was a kid or held outdated prejudice to this day.

Johnnie began to explain quite a lot of the background to the local situation and characters. Information three strangers, or four if you counted Goren locked up a couple of miles away, would not know and might find it very hard to uncover in a community like Bethlehem. One shocked by a death, suspicious of outsiders and reluctant to openly say much, especially if it reflected negatively.

He was able to tell them why three of the half dozen witnesses in the bar would be making statements that suggested it was Goren who was openly _"coming onto"_ Whitney, not the other way round. Two of them owed their living to Charlie Creasy who not only owned one of the largest ranches in the County, but also ran a successful freight business that employed a lot of people. Would not want it to be known they spoke badly of his only son's _"on/off girlfriend"_ for the last five years. And the third was one of Ed's best buddies from High School.

Johnnie also told them that relationship was notoriously stormy, including drunken violence both ways and they cheated on each other continually. Told Ron had Goren not been around and with some reason to consider him a suspect, suspicion could have fallen first on Ed. If it weren't for his Daddy either or both of them would have criminal records over incidents that had occurred and second after Ed, might have been his father as a suspect. Charlie been horrified five years ago when Ed got fourteen year old Whitney pregnant in his senior year and it was no secret locally he abhorred their continuing association, blaming her for all the trouble.

Ed it seemed was over indulged since birth, but at the time he'd been an All State, wide receiver hotly tipped to make the draft. But a badly broken leg ended the chances of that and he'd then flunked out of _Old Miss_ academically after his football scholarship ended. Had returned home to the business his father set him up with and was no more responsible, or obliged to be by Daddy, than when he was the hottest High School jock in town

Their little boy might have had Children's Services involved it were not for Charlie and her uncle the Deputy, who had the double embarrassment of his sister, in whose footsteps Whitney was following. Except her father was some casual cowboy long gone before sixteen year old Anne even knew she was pregnant. Raybold was a man she married later and she was currently between husbands.

"It begins to make sense now" said Eames gesturing at the statements. "None of us ever saw Goren act that way not even Lewis known him longest and probably seen him drunkest"

"What about any other men she might have been involved with?" asked Ron making notes.

"Take your pick" shrugged Belray. "But put it this way, the scenario they present of her arranging to meet a guy she barely knew is very possible. Except of course they are trying to make it sound like all Whitney would expect to do was walk in the moonlight because butter would not melt"

"Little chance then that there are records with the local cops of any incidents" muttered Eames.

"Dunno" said Johnnie "But there could be at Flagstaff and Rider Park. That's where you have to go round here for anything like a dance or a club and I think…" he suddenly trailed off and slowly got up from the table.

The three of them looked puzzled but said nothing as he went silently to the door and flung it open.

"Hello Sonny" said Belray.

He almost had to catch Harkness, who toppled through the opening and it didn't take a genius to work out he must have been leaning against the door and listening.

"I came to see if there was anything you needed" he said with barely a hesitation.

None of them could be sure which of them he was looking at in particular and it was Lewis growled _"No thanks"_ at him.

Johnnie more or less pushed him out the door and told him. "Go back to Mommy you little creep"

"Who will he be reporting to?" enquired Carver

"Just her"

He sat back down. "And Ma Harkness isn't the most popular person in town. Few years back there was a developer interested in that empty lot next door and this one to build a small factory. She wouldn't sell, so it and the jobs went to Rider Park instead"

"I hope listening at doors is all he does" shuddered Eames.

Belray looked at her and smiled "I think it's him next to me you need to worry about more than Sonny, Alex"

"Thanks" muttered Lewis with another small blush. "I'll be shoving a chair behind the door tonight myself"

"Since we are on that sort of subject Mr Belray" said Carver.

"Sheriff Drummond tells me there have been no reports from women in the area of attempted rape or anything like that. Given I'm not disposed to believe everything he tells me, have you heard of anything or know of any incident he's not shared with me?"

"No" he shook his head.

"Last time there was any what you might call sex crime round here was about five years ago. Though I have to tell you it was Sonny and he got probation for it. Something involving a seasonal cleaner here when there was more of a trade. Touched her…um…inappropriately and more than once"

Eames and Carver glanced at each other.

"Any history with Whitney?" she asked.

Belray shrugged. "For obvious reasons I doubt Sonny got a lot of action in his life and Ma always kept him on a tight rein even as a kid. They say he pants over a lot of the local girls but whether that's just meanness or because of what did happen I don't know. But with her…um…accommodating reputation especially when she and Ed are broken up, I suppose he might think he stood more of a chance with her than most other local ladies"

"One more thing from me Mr Belray" said Ron turning to his notes.

"When Whitney followed Bobby into the parking lot of the bar she said to him…um…_if you fancy a little party with some cactus juice let me know_…words to that effect. He assumed she was referring to mescalin or peyote"

Johnnie nodded. "He's very well informed. That would be a local term for it"

"Goren worked Narco" said Eames.

"Ah…I see. So what do you want to know Ron?"

"Just again if there is more of a local problem with that than I've been led to believe or if Whitney could have been involved in it?"

"See what you mean. Whether the motive might have been drug related? Like everywhere there's more weed being smoked than is officially known. Especially with AZ being on the border and I don't doubt local kids are into E and all the rest. I think beer and bourbon were more Whitney's preferences. Can't see her tied into something like that"

"You don't happen to know who her closest girlfriend was Johnnie? Or if she'd speak to us? They often know a lot more than men even if there are a lot of them in a woman's life"

"Try Janey Yelland. Works at the diner Alex. Got a Marilyn Manson thing going on? Can't miss her and unlike a lot, isn't owing to someone like Charlie Creasy or especially fond of Ed"

"Will do" Eames found herself smiling back at this smiling man.

"Couple of things might help you too" he said glancing at his watch.

"My great-uncle usually comes down from the Res to visit with me Saturday. If you want someone to look at those tracks for you, he's your man"

"They'll be almost a week old by then" mused Carver. "No chance you could…"

Belray laughed. "I may be Navajo but that's as far as I go. But seriously, he's good. The weather is not set to change that much, but don't expect him to tell you how many dimes Bobby had in his right pocket. That's movie Indian rubbish"

"We may take you up on that" said Ron. "I take it your uncle didn't advise Sheriff Drummond?"

"Wouldn't need to Mr Carver. Whatever else he is Art is a pretty good countryman. How do you think he got all those trophies? If he said those prints were Bobby's, I'd put my money on it though I hate to say it. And of course they also had the CSU people over who took fresh casts"

"Yes" said the attorney. "Got the report here. Needed to eliminate boot prints of a couple of your hands found the body"

"Other thing I see is you got laptops with you. Don't suppose you hauled a printer from the Big Apple?"

"I was hoping we might be able to use the one in reception" said Eames.

Johnnie snorted. "Ma Harkness wouldn't give you the spit from her mouth if you was dying of thirst in the desert Alex. I've got a spare one at home I can lend you. Will tomorrow morning be soon enough?"

"For me" said Ron. "And many thanks"

Johnnie left about ten minutes later and as she lay in her tub, Eames would not deny he'd been as helpful as he was good to look at. She was probably guilty of stereotyping but he was not what she expected for a cowhand. It was after Ron had retired to his room to work on papers for the hearing, Lewis told her a little more about the guy he'd learned during his time here.

How Belray had graduated in sociology, had a PhD and was a junior faculty member at Arizona State with a promising career when his elder child died of leukaemia. He and the marriage fell apart and so did his career when drink got hold of him for a time. So he returned to the job his father had done and how he'd paid his way through college.

Eames could well see why he was the sort of man Goren would have found common ground with very quickly. Taken the chance Johnnie offered he and Lewis to get more detailed insight into the Navajo culture on the Nation's land to the almost immediate north. Just wished her interest in doing so, if chance permitted, was as motivated by matters of history, culture and customs as Bobby's was. Not something rather more personal when John made the casual offer to her and Ron.

Eames also wished the walls here were not so thin, she could hear Carver taking a pee next door.

_**To be continued…**_


	9. Chapter 9

**Friday 8****th**** October**

_**Passenger Services, Logan Airport, Boston**_

Caroline Reese had always known that the first flight out of Boston in the morning, arriving in Phoenix just after eleven, would make it very tight timing for her to be at Rider Park Courthouse by three in the afternoon. When this Judge was due to consider Rob's situation and might impose conditions on his release. But the, as yet unexplained, delay to the _Delta_ flight was something she could do without. Same as the torrential rain that morning which might have something to do with it.

"Thank you" she said to the young man behind the counter as she took back the documents he had faxed there for Ron Carver.

She put them back into an envelope and stuffed it into her purse. The board was showing still showing _"delayed"_ so she might as well go grab a coffee. And at least something had worked out right. Managing to get all she was taking crammed into hand luggage. The suit of Rob's that included would need some attention time it came out. But that was his fault. Should have expected to need one for this trip and packed accordingly. Anticipated getting arrested and appearing in court.

Being mentally _"angry"_ with him over the ridiculous was one way of stopping her worrying about this situation, though the very late night call from Alex Eames had been re-assuring. And she would worry about dealing with Rob's protestations about her and her parents putting up surety for any bail, if it got set crazily high, when she saw him. When he was free, preferably cleared of suspicion and when, if necessary, she pretty much knew a few ways to divert his attention.

What might be harder would be resisting the temptation to tell him to quit this expedition with Lewis and instead, come back to New York and keep her warm in bed. But as Caro stood in line behind other delayed passengers, she remembered what she told Alex a couple of weeks back, as they cracked open a second bottle of wine one evening. When she asked why Caro let _"Goren"_ as she most usually called him, go at all? That it wasn't like that and she figured he was best treated like a homing pigeon more than a caged canary. After more wine, the image of Rob as _"Tweetypie"_ was very giggle worthy for them both.

As the PA system announced the no longer delayed _"899/691 for Cincinnati and Phoenix",_ Caro Reese hoisted the bag on her shoulder and quit the line at the concession stand. Being first to the gate wouldn't get her to Arizona quicker but activity was a temporary cure for an anxiously impatient state of mind.

_**Brown's Diner, Bethlehem**_

There was only one in Main Street and after their long day yesterday both Eames and Carver were longer in bed than Lewis, who was the only one more or less _"up"_ to take delivery of the printer Johnnie Belray sent over via one of the ranch hands. So much of the morning regular trade was gone when they arrived and at least their reception wasn't hostile. Though they did get a few stares or what Lewis had joked was the _"lookee there - strangers to these parts"_ expression.

That, as they gave their order to a young woman was obviously Janey Yelland, was a term he and Goren had come up with. When their weeks on the road, primarily at Bobby's instigation, had taken them via many small backwaters. Places significant for some obscure reason he'd dug out of his memory or some book and in a few examples, they visited for practical reasons.

As they ate breakfasts unusually large compared to that of their regular routines, Eames wondered how _"interesting"_ Carver found the tale of the guy in a remote corner of Kentucky. He sounded as bizarre as the barn full of genuine German classic auto parts he had stored there and Lewis knew of. But it was an experience she might have enjoyed too. As she had meeting Lewis the first time and several of Goren's rather _"odd"_ collection of friends and acquaintances. But then there were some who found Bobby _"weird and geeky"_ too.

When Eames took the chance to raise the topic of a private conversation with Janey as she re-filled their coffee, it seemed to come as no surprise and she like a lot of people, had worked out whom they were. Told Eames to meet her out back later on her break time and her expression, just about visible under a lot of black and white make up, made it clear she didn't expect the guys to be there.

"What do you want me to do?" asked Lewis wiping his plate clean with a slice of bread.

"We need you to go buy some clothes for Bobby" said Ron. "Though what you might find suitable in Bethlehem I'm not so sure. And don't bother with a tie. He can have one of mine"

"Suitable for court clothes" grinned Lewis. "I remember, though it's many years since I was the accused"

"You have a record?" hissed Eames.

"Receiving stolen" he shrugged. "Young and stupid and before the business was getting off the ground, but you see why Drummond and his boys concluded I wasn't to be trusted"

"I do" said Carver with a raise of one brow.

"I guess you never did anything illegal Ron" Lewis folded the slice of bread

"I never got caught in my youthful transgressions" he smiled. "You had better get shorts and socks as well"

"Yeah" said Eames as she handed over some bills from the collection money. "You're the expert on Goren's underwear after all. We'll see you back here after we try to tackle Ed Creasy and this Zeke Payne works across the street.

With his mouth full of bread it sounded like _"Good Luck"_ from Lewis as they left.

_**Ed Creasy, Auto Sales**_

Carver and Eames got more of a positive reception there than they had anticipated, perhaps because Charlie Creasy was there with his son when they arrived and going over some papers. And how easily they slipped into a working routine was interesting for Eames. It was almost like being with Bobby again.

Only this time it was her wandered to the window out onto the small inside showroom, selling mainly used SUVs and trucks. To get Ed from behind the desk and his father's attention elsewhere. So Carver could use his _"upside down reading skills"_ and see what they had been looking at and to which both their eyes had flickered at significant points in the conversation.

Creasy Snr was obviously a smart man and had somehow found out enough about Goren and the case against him, to realise he was a highly unlikely suspect. Said himself that while decorated police officers might well have killed for private reason; Mr Carver's client wasn't what you might expect when something like this happened. He was also playing a higher level of regard for Whitney than Johnnie had said he had. Perhaps, as they said later, because he knew if attention switched, he or Ed could be considered to have possible motives and a past history of almost violent scenes and arguments with her.

Ed was a cocky and arrogant young man, at least until a mixture of Ron and his old man cut him down a little to size. But it became clear why Drummond had not formally interviewed him, why he had not reported Whitney missing and had a tight alibi. _"Monday Night Football"_ which meant he was guaranteed to be at his buddy Zeke's place especially since the game this week was the _Cards _at the _Rams._ Not only was he with six other people for the time covered Whitney's death, one of them was Carl Hogan, the Deputy and his Captain when he made the High School first team as a sophomore.

Eames also knew of and slightly ragged him about the rare win for the _Cards_, which would explain why he, Zeke and a couple of others then tied on enough booze, that he stayed there that night. Didn't return either to his father's place or Whitney's small apartment. Though he did confirm they were currently _"split up",_ so he wouldn't have done, even if fit to drive.

"So what were they looking at between their expressions of regret?" asked Eames as they walked through the outside lot area.

"Looked to be some papers relating to the child. Jason. He has rights as the natural father but since it would seem he is being raised more by Anna Raybold, I suspect they might be gearing up for a custody or residence fight"

"Even more reason to conduct themselves politely about Whitney at every chance and not be obstructive to anyone"

"My guess Alex. And we can probably assume Carl Hogan is the other conduit other than Drummond to the Creasy's"

"Cross him off my list to work on then" Eames muttered as they turned at the corner of the street. "You know even if we do spring Goren this afternoon Ron, I'm still not convinced we'll get them looking seriously elsewhere until we dig up a big sign tells them where to look"

"You could be right Detective. And he might have said it as a positive, but Charlie Creasy was wrong. Just being a cop and of previous good character isn't enough to get you clear. If we can dispose of the earring there is still a lot of circumstantial evidence points to Bobby"

"That really wasn't what I wanted to hear Ron"

Carver glanced at her. "I know Alex. Sorry"

_**To be continued…**_


	10. Chapter 10

**Friday 8****th**** October**

_**Bethlehem Hardware**_

"Oh okay then" sighed Zeke Payne as he quit stacking timber in the yard.

Eames and Carver had both pressed him hard on his story about what he allegedly saw in _"The Silver Spur"_ on Monday evening before he left. Not least on the fact if this ever came to trial, the attorney would present a dozen witnesses to Goren's behaviour down the years to throw doubt on the credibility of what he was saying. Gave him the chance to opt out now of testimony _"might on reflection have been a little exaggerated"_ as Carver put it. While Eames had more or less threatened to try and dig up something which indicated he'd fooled with his best friend's girl at some time. It didn't really matter which worked.

As he walked over, removing a half smoked cigarette from behind his ear and lighting it in defiance of the _"No Smoking"_ signage, it looked like it was probably a little of both.

"Yes y'all client was no more than friendly, it was her doing the running and if I'm honest he did look a little uncomfortable" he inhaled deeply. "I guess as a stranger he was just too polite to tell her to cut it out"

"Had she been drinking?"

"Hard to say mister" he shrugged. "Knowing Whitney and working the early shift she probably had a couple of beers by then. Was she skunk drunk? No. Anyhow? Don't you get blood tests and so on?"

"That's one of the many things not yet back from the labs" growled Eames.

"That it?"

"No" said Carver had his pad resting on some bags of fertilizer. "Did you see her touch Mr Goren's cell phone?"

"Uhuh" he nodded. "When he took up the suggestion of a game of pool until Nate Daniels dropped by he put the grocery bag and some things from his front pockets, like the phone and maybe some keys on the second table. Some point Whitney grabbed it to admire it"

"Did you see her use it in any way?" asked Ron.

"Nope though…" Payne looked away as if to call up an image.

"I left as Nate came in. Told your guy this was the man he needed to speak to about who might have a water pump to fit and he came up the room to the bar. Left Whitney down there to take her turn. Why?"

Eames made a sucking sound. "Must be the only person doesn't know more than we do about the evidence Zeke. Thanks for your help. And I'd advise you to think carefully about your statement and revising it"

He grunted and gave her one of those looks of a man hated to be told more than that their supper was ready by a woman. Zeke stubbed out the smoke on his boot and returned to the wood.

"Well that matches something Bobby thought of" said Carver softly. "When it was possible her number got put on his phone. Assuming the cops didn't do it. Do women do that sort of thing Alex?"

"Women like Whitney do" she muttered. "Though I'll be happier if we can get one of these other good ole boys to say he saw her do it"

"Me too. Time to see if Mr Lewis remembered what the accused should be wearing" Carver said turning back inside the store to leave.

_**Bethlehem Police Department**_

They caught a break when they went round to the Police Station in that neither Drummond nor Newcombe were there, which might explain the rather more relaxed atmosphere. Even if Ron Carver wasn't prepared to dismiss the impact his filing yesterday might have had. Drummond would have received a copy, where legal process aside; he'd also cited concerns about the treatment his client, Robert O Goren was being subjected to. Hadn't actually said outright about the fact he'd been struck for the Judge's benefit but unless he was a total fool, the Sheriff would see the potential writing on the wall for this afternoon.

So it was possible he'd instructed Jay Weaver to be more co-operative or with only Walt Winterbottom there, he'd taken the initiative himself. Whichever, it was the part-timer had taken her and Carver down to the cells where Goren was on his bunk reading the local _"Arizona Daily Sun"._

Eames was stunned when she saw him but that wasn't because of the bruise had started to turn yellow, so much as seeing her partner with hair down over his collar and with a full and slightly untidy beard. Both tended to show more how he'd begun to grey in the last couple of years and Eames wasn't prepared to dismiss the notion that some of what he had gone through during them, might have speeded a natural process.

_Damn him!_ Did a much better job of looking through her he wasn't supposed to know, than she did him. Almost did give him that hug she guessed Carver had not. But they were left alone with _"their client"_ for a conference and when Walt was gone, he did let her do that briefly though he called her _"Ms Potter"_ the cover name, to begin with. Just to tease her and at least there was that same twinkle in his eye as when they played these games together at work.

Carver did not need to explain too much about the likely format for the hearing and Eames might have known Bobby would darn well have a list in his head he'd want to know if they found answers to.

"Here" she said gesturing with his folder. "Take it back and do the job yourself"

"No thanks. Though I don't recall saying you could use it"

"You had just better hope the _Yankees_ don't go out this weekend and I miss that call from the _s_hortstop on account of you" she muttered trying to keep a straight face.

Goren shrugged. "Lewis will step up to the plate I'm sure"

"Is this something I should know about or would want to?" enquired Carver.

"_No"_ they said in unison.

"Speaking of Lewis he's up in the office. With some clothes for you Bobby"

"Thanks" he said quietly. "About all this Alex…"

"Just save it for now eh?" she gave him a little smile.

But she could see he was awkward and uncomfortable he was somehow _"to blame"_ for this trouble and what others were going to for him. Goren's problem for years, to her mind, was he'd got out of accepting help very easily. His childhood and raising meaning he'd had to learn to rely only on himself and didn't so much not trust other people, as not realise he was deserving of their concern.

"Ms Potter?" said Carver. "I wonder as they have agreed Lewis can visit with the clothes, if this is the time for you to go? Work your skills on one of our Deputy friends?"

"You can work that out Goren" she winked at him.

She thumped on the door. "Hey Officer! Let me out please!"

Then she spoke more quietly. "See you later Bobby. For dinner"

"Hope so"

"Me too. You're paying"

_**Room 4, The Desert Inn Motel**_

Confident Jay Weaver would hold to letting Goren get a shower and chance to tidy up and with time pressing, they had not stayed too long at the station house. Long enough for Eames to get a lucky break. She'd already concluded, seeing his wedding ring, the flirty approach to Weaver was unlikely to work and when he got called to the front office to deal with someone, she pounced on Winterbottom.

Not literally, but Goren's observations via Carver told her what might work with him. It wasn't flattery and he was far too young. It was his cop ambition. So she perched on the desk where he was entering some routine traffic stop data and commiserated how she got stuck with that when she worked for the _New York State Police._ Most investigators for big city attorneys had law enforcement backgrounds but while she regaled him with a few tales of _"back east crime"_ his attention was distracted.

"_Bless him"_ she thought.

His eyes had widened like saucers a couple of times and he unwittingly told her a lot about the Arizona database in between.

"_And someone really should tell these people not to leave passwords stuck to their monitors._

Time the three of them left, she was fairly confident she told Ron; if necessary she could hack into it from a laptop and at least the local part of the system. From there they had dropped Carver at the Motel and she had gone on with Lewis to see the Reverend Eugene Jones. The other two witnesses to Goren's alleged _"come on"_ in the bar were working out of town, but he might have been significant.

"What did he have to say?" said Ron gathering papers off the table.

"More or less what he did in his statement. That it was probably his SUV Bobby heard and saw the dust of at the time he estimates it was"

"And" added Lewis gloomily. "That in the fading light he neither saw Bobby walking along the ranch road towards the yard nor anyone or vehicle over by those pens. Though when you see them from the ranch road you'll understand why Ron. The way it curves and so on it would hardly be visible"

That was the only vehicle Bobby had heard _"behind"_ him as he headed away from the murder scene and in the light and with a casual glance, had only been able to say _"an SUV or maybe a truck"_ to Drummond when asked what or who he saw. The local minister plus his wife and daughter had been leaving after calling on the Frasers about some church business and were hardly suspects. Indeed, it was the only vehicle anyone was saying was on that stretch of dirt road for about four hours, when you took into account the Frasers at the main house, plus the five hands who _"lived on"_ including Johnnie Belray.

"Any luck with the medical data from New York?" asked Eames pouring herself a coffee before they went to get ready for court and eat.

"Rather more thorough than that Flagstaff lab came up with but then I don't suppose they deal either with so many murders or have some of the equipment our friends there do. Blue file. Excuse me" he went into the bathroom pulling off his sweatshirt to get shaved.

Eames read and realised from the various items been mailed to Carver, someone had gone to a lot of trouble to be able to say the skull fracture was _"consistent with the shape of the bloody rock subjected to 3D imaging from photographs"._ She'd seen some of those programmes working and was always impressed. And was able to offer Lewis she could see getting anxious again, some more hope.

They were saying very clearly that the size of what was really only a flesh wound on the scalp would have resulted in little or no spatter on the assailant. And if it did leave a few tiny drops it would most likely be on the underside of the arm/sleeve. Not the leg of the pants like the blood on Bobby's jeans being tested for Whitney's or his own.

Though they didn't have those to see the exact blood drops, Jimmy Antonelli said the only way they could reconstruct the position Lewis described, was to have the victim's head resting on the assailant's thigh. And how you bashed their head with one blow, unless they were incapable and thus not moving was hard to see. And a left-handed man would more likely hit himself if he were trying to hold a struggling woman in that position.

"I guess that's good Alex. Just so frustrating we don't have those test results and the tox screen for her yet"

"Now you are sounding like a cop Lewis" she laughed.

_**To be continued…**_


	11. Chapter 11

**Friday 8****th**** October**

_**Main St, Bethlehem**_

Eames jumped into the rear of the Taurus that Lewis was driving and he pulled away at first like they were at _Indianapolis Raceway_ before moderating his speed. They had been afraid Janey Yelland might have changed her mind when she did not show earlier, but it turned out she'd had to run home on her break because her own kid was sick. And re-arranged the time via her boss.

"You will not believe some of what she just told me" she said slightly breathlessly.

"I worry when cops say that to me" said Carver half turning in front. "Or what certain ones used to say perhaps I ought to say"

"Except if we have to there is another person who could testify to it. If we could ever track him down"

Eames told Carver and Lewis what Janey told her and her reasons for now telling a story when she first heard Whitney was dead, she almost went to tell Drummond. But was in two minds. Firstly, because word was all round town _"this big stranger done it for sure"_ and she hadn't realised until yesterday evening he was a cop. And secondly, because her boyfriend said it didn't exactly reflect well on her as a reliable employee if word got out and they needed her income from the diner, with the toddler and her twelve weeks gone again.

_**The Courthouse, Rider Park**_

The building with its two chambers either side of the stairs on the second floor felt very small to Eames and Carver after the size of the ones they were used to operating in back home. While he went to speak to Goren down in the cells, collect documents and to re-assure him Caro Reese had landed safely and was well on her way north, Eames and Lewis had gone inside Number Two Court.

Her first instinct was to go to the right where traditionally the prosecution sat and they were both surprised by the numbers of people sitting on that side. Packed almost solid and a few had spilled onto the wooden benches on the left. A lot of older people and women and as she went through the bar of the court, Eames worked out why. Those just curious or with time on their hands had come out from Bethlehem and judging by the bags they had, some of the ladies had combined it with their weekend shopping in the larger town.

Lewis slid into the row at the front left, which along with four others was empty. It was almost as if the _"locals"_ were distancing themselves physically from the suspect, few if any of them had seen and had been getting conflicting tittle tattle about. But they both saw Drummond across the aisle with Weaver. Who had brought Bobby to court and in the case of the Sheriff, to meet with and brief the still absent DA. Someone called Tim Bayard.

More significant was that Newcombe was out of uniform, sitting with what you had to assume were Whitney's other relatives. Huddled among them a small boy with dark hair had to be Jason and the image of Ed Creasy, though without wishing to look too hard, Eames didn't see him or his father. Quite inappropriate to bring the child to court and she assumed the woman dressed like she was ready to go to a club, was the grandmother. To Alex's mind, a blatant attempt to play to any sympathy from the judge for a motherless child. One she knew from Belray and now from Janey, was close to neglected by Whitney when it suited her priorities.

Eames concentrated on setting out the various documents Ron had generated working late last night and earlier. She wasn't sure if he was just used to being able to reach out his hand to a minion who would pass him what he needed when he needed it, or if it was a ploy of his. To slightly intimidate a country court with some _"big city tactics"._ She didn't mind and it meant she would be beside Goren should any note need to be passed and to give him some moral support if he needed it. Eames still couldn't decide from this morning just how and how much this was affecting Goren and Lewis was like a yo-yo from confident to looking sick.

Ron arrived at her side as the door to their left opened and Goren came in, not in cuffs thank goodness and escorted by two elderly looking court officers. Drew something of a hush from the other side of the room and at least he had been able trim the beard a little. Didn't, in thin denim shirt and dark blue pants, look like the very well dressed NYPD cop she knew. But at least he looked less like the mule driver he had this morning. She had teased him about becoming that when he first told her about his plan to take six months leave and hike the Grand Canyon, amongst other things.

Goren ignored the stirring opposite as he sat down beside her and Ron's dark red silk tie and gold tiepin were slightly incongruous when you saw he had tennis shoes on. But Lewis had explained they only had tall western boots Bobby's size at the one clothing store in Bethlehem and he knew he'd never wear them again if he could help it. At six four, heavy set, hair rather long and unwieldy and bearded the less he seemed like a huge, hulking drifter would bash a nineteen year olds head in, the better.

Eames had to smile as Bobby turned his chair slightly so he would be better able to see the reaction of the DA and Drummond to what was said. You could take the cop out of his turf but you couldn't take the cop out of the man and that was typical of the way she knew Goren always observed people. What helped make him so good at his job, though he was in Ron's capable hands now, as a slightly harassed non descript middle-aged man with armfuls of files rushed in.

They both turned to each other with a smile in their eyes as Ron stood up to greet him. Impeccable, polite and courteous as he even helped him with the sliding bundle and then, apologised for the amount of material he then handed the DA, as the paperwork Carver was entitled to put before the judge. To support any points he intended to make and it was even more professionally respectful to give Tim Bayard some chance to see it all first. Except they knew he stood little or no chance of really getting to grips with it as the large clock over the bench ticked to two minutes past three. They had seen Ron operate many times and Eames whispered a few words to Goren. A phrase Johnnie had used last night.

"_The careless prairie rat meets the wily rattlesnake"._

He seemed to understand as from the door to the right Judge Jesse Thomas came hurrying into the room. Perhaps he'd already changed for the weekend or maybe it was his usual garb, as he was pulling a black robe over jeans, red shirt, and bola tie and of course, had western boots on his feet. His clerk barely had time to tell them to rise before he was at the bench, brushing back rather long white hair and staring at them over half rimmed spectacles.

"Afternoon Tim" he said. "And you must be Mr Carver of _Franklin & Levi_ of New York"

Ron half rose. "I am sir"

Goren smiled inwardly. Carver had picked up what Bayard had said in response and used the same form of address.

"Welcome to our little ole corner of the judicial world. Now before we start? Kindly remove that child from the court will you Deputy Newcombe? This is not the place for him"

A female relative got up and took him away, as Thomas said, "Okay on your feet Mr Carver. Keep it brief and remember I can read and we'll do just fine"

Judge Jesse like most in his occupation had their own way of running their court. He was obviously very shrewd and didn't stand on the sort of ceremony some felt they had earned. Might not run it according to orthodoxy, but as Ron was to say later, it was legal. He also kept Bayard in line, which saved Carver constant objection as once or twice he tried to gloss over, if not totally mislead.

On the fact Detective Goren wasn't on unpaid leave from NYPD for any negative reason. It was at his request, with the support of his superiors who had sent glowing reports and was still under contract to them. Not exactly the picture Bayard had started to paint. The judge commented negatively on the time the lab was taking to complete some tests, but also pointed out there were still reasonable grounds for suspecting him. Though much of what he could see was circumstantial and some of that, like this pubic hair business now had reasonable and plausible explanation. Or would have had Art spoken again with this Mr Lewis after its discovery.

The one real stunner to everyone was when Ron did get to his feet to request a formal dismissal right now of the evidence of the earring. There was a brief sidebar between the three of them with the papers. Eames and Goren saw Gary Newcombe looking very uncomfortable and with a glare over his specs at Drummond, Judge Thomas had no hesitation in ruling that out of any further proceedings right now. That caused a buzz but then the spectators didn't know what was in that set of papers, Eames had handed Ron to give to the judge.

What Bayard should really have done after that was agree to Goren's release, subject to certain conditions and pending test results. But he didn't and there was then an almost wearying and embarrassing procession of obstacles, that either Carver or the judge himself shot down and where their careful preparation paid off.

So they had lined up at _Luke Air Force Base_, an old acquaintance of Bobby's with whom he could reside. And when that's a Command Chief Master Sergeant Dejeune responsible for all ground security there, Judge Thomas hoped there wasn't about to be any suggestion the military would collude in flying Detective Goren out of the state. And so far as he was concerned the offer to stay within Bethlehem County and report three times a day to the Sheriff's Office, was adequate.

As to a financial surety, the suggestion of a million was ridiculous since the DA must know the suspect was unlikely to have that level of resources available even if New York cops were better paid. Had to be to afford a hot dog in that town. But Carver got up and said they could assure to that if need be. Provided _"his honour"_ would accept guarantee papers from residents of Massachusetts and Virginia.

"Money is money" shrugged Judge Jesse. "Who are these people?"

"Detective Goren's partner Dr Caroline Reece and her parents. Retired Vice Admiral George and Mrs Eileen Reece. Most recently, the Deputy Superintendent of the _US Naval Academy_, sir"

Eames own brows rose at that since she only ever knew Caro's father _"used to be in the Navy"._

"Tell the Admiral his money is probably safe Mr Carver. Two hundred thousand to keep you happy Tim. Now anything else?"

"Um yes sir" he stood up. "It has come to our attention Mr Goren has a history of mental illness in his family. Given the nature of the crime you might want to consider that"

_**To be continued…**_


	12. Chapter 12

**Friday 8****th**** October**

_**Number Two Courtroom**_

That brought a buzz to the room and Eames wasn't sure she if wanted to be sick or to shove Ron aside to get at Bayard and rip his throat out. Though she should have known there would be something about that on Bobby's personnel data from NYPD if only in relation his next of kin. While his mother was alive and not deemed legally competent herself to make decisions on his behalf, that was probably noted routinely. And _Personnel _had probably failed to update Goren's basic details.

"There is schizophrenia in my own family Mr Bayard" said the judge quietly. "So don't try blindsiding me young man or forget I can read for myself. I have enough concerns about some things I've seen and read about this investigation. You can stay in your seat Mr Carver"

He removed his spectacles. "Subject to the residence and reporting and surety agreed you are free to go Mr Goren. Sheriff Drummond and Mr Bayard? You two will do everything you can to expedite the results from those labs, if it means driving to Flagstaff yourself. At four Monday afternoon, I want you all back in here with this man either charged for a committal hearing or for formal and final release. Or with very good reasons why neither of those things apply. And I'll speak to both of you and you Mr Carver, in my chambers now please"

With that he was gone as the hapless clerk called them all to rise. Lewis almost hurdled the bar to grab Goren and hug him as Carver did as he was told and they avoided some of the looks they were getting from over the aisle.

"Let's wait for the rush to die down" said Goren loosening the tie and parking his butt on the table. "Wait for Ron here"

It seemed to Eames five years went off his age at that moment.

_**Magnolia Street, Rider Park**_

By the time the four of them stepped out onto the covered portico about twenty minutes later, most of the people from Bethlehem had dispersed, including Whitney Raybold's family. The exception to that was a very apprehensive looking Gary Newcombe, standing at the bottom of the steps talking to Jay Weaver beside the Sheriff's Toyota. He must know or at least suspect, that the planting of evidence was revealed in that sidebar and that his boss was inside now learning the details from the formidable Judge Thomas.

Between having Goren sign the papers the clerk had quickly drawn up, Carver had explained that he was sent out after Jesse Thomas had dealt with something else. Namely the bruise he had seen for himself on the suspect, his understanding there was no resistance to his initial arrest and that there was a witness to that. All he asked Ron was whether he or his client wished to comment on it at this stage. To Alex's mind, relatively minor as it was and Goren a pretty tough guy, it was something he should be angrier about.

His quietly spoken opinion while he didn't forgive, especially if Newcombe also planted the most damning piece of evidence, he did understand. Sat in the jail he must have had more time to consider the victim in all of this he was the only one of them met in life. To form the view, from what Goren saw for himself and learned since, that she was a rather sad young woman who hid behind false and meaningless hedonism.

Eames also realised that to some extent Goren shared Ron Carver's different outlook on that casual minor assault. He was thinking as an attorney and that in the unlikely event of this ever getting to charge, never mind trial, it was a bit of legal powder to keep dry. To further undermine the credibility of the whole house of cards that someone had already damaged with that earring, whilst trying to do the opposite.

And despite Ron's efforts to keep him informed, with the pressure of time on them, Goren wasn't as _"up to speed"_ on every last detail of what had gone on. In the police station, he was insulated from the wider community of Bethlehem and how it had individually and collectively reacted to this murder so far. Knowing intellectually that social connections, obligations, history, kinship and secrets cause a group of people living in an area to behave in a certain way and actually seeing them play out was something else.

Lewis offered to go get the Ford parked around the corner as Goren just enjoyed the late afternoon sun and the air. Seemed in no rush to go or hear all the latest information, which wasn't like him either. Watching him pace, hands in his pockets, Eames wasn't sure any more than she often had been about her partner, _"why" _he was as he was right now. Whether it was reaction to the last fifty or so hours of his life or because, despite it, the last five weeks had subtly changed him already. Or even, under the apparent _"cool",_ if his brain was going at its usual speed and thoroughness over minutiae.

What did move at surprising speed without seeming to notice them, was Sheriff Drummond. An angry scene seemed to be about to break out at the foot of the half dozen deep steps, until Weaver indicated to him the three of them under the Doric style columns so favoured by official buildings in most States. At that point he got in the _Land Cruiser_ and drove off with Weaver, leaving Newcombe to cross the street to his car alone.

Just as a small red SUV almost screeched to a halt where the larger one had been and Caro Reese jumped out shoving her shades onto the top of her head. For a big guy Goren had always moved pretty swiftly and Eames barely had time to turn round. To notice he was gone and then see what Ron was grinning at.

"Bet you ten bucks she sucks his fillings out before he does hers" she said.

"Make it twenty Detective Eames and you got yourself a bet"

_**Room 5, The Desert Inn Motel**_

Ron Carver had ridden back with Goren and Caro after some fairly relieved and less intimate greetings on Magnolia Street from the rest of them. He was probably in the best position to explain to her the legal situation as Bobby, almost anxious for something to do, drove. Still seemed pretty NASCAR style to Eames as she followed him, but at least there wasn't the traffic here to bug him as they came off the Freeway after one intersection back into Bethlehem. She took the chance to use Lewis as a scribe. So happy he was flirting with her again.

To write down the list of things they still had to do to be sure they had double-checked the police investigation and evidence before they could relax a little. And Eames would not deny finding time for a beer at some point would be a great idea, even if they decided to go to the grocery and buy it to have at the motel. When they got there it was to someone else they had not seen before at reception. Who, when she realised the room they had booked for _Ms C Reese_, was now to have two occupants asked for a few minutes. To put extra towels and other things into the room.

Had it been Ma Harkness it wouldn't have surprised Eames if she asked for a marriage certificate or demanded they hire another. The look she gave her coming out of _Number 3_ where Lewis was after delivering him a soda this morning, you'd think they were turning the place into Sodom or Gomorrah. Which was ironic in the light of what Janey had told her and would give her cause to complain if she knew, which Eames very much doubted she did. Or if she did and did nothing, it said something very odd about Mrs Harness' relationship with Sonny.

And she had to smile when Number 7 was pronounced ready how Goren almost had to shut the door on Lewis who was just about to follow him and Caro inside. Despite the fact she'd already said her first task would be a shower and to change her clothes after fourteen hours since she woke up in Boston. Most of that travelling, including a dash up the Freeway, where she'd told them, she got pulled over for speeding. Though how Caro talked her way out of a ticket was between her and the nice trooper.

They'd already decided to take an hour when Ron would go to the police station to collect Bobby's things were not already deemed _"evidence"_ or at the lab. He also had to confirm with them, the three times each day Goren was to report and fearing if left at the motel Lewis might have another attack of thoughtlessness, Eames decided to take him with them. Claimed she needed him to show Carver the places he had her yesterday or something.

Didn't seem to occur to him until she finally used the word _"privacy"_ that Goren and Caro might just like some after weeks apart. Whatever they did, Lewis knocking on the door after five minutes would be unwelcome. Showed you what five weeks living in a confined space almost glued to one person could do to you, Eames decided.

All of them unaware that Sonny Harkness was around and had seen them all arrive and then the three of them depart with a smile on his face.

_**To be continued…**_


	13. Chapter 13

_Please note:__ This chapter is not explicit but it is quite graphic imagery and a disturbing scenario. If anyone thinks it "too much" for a T rating please let me know. I will gladly move the whole story to a permanent M rating._

**Friday 8****th**** October**

_**In And Outside Room 7, The Desert Inn Motel**_

Goren peeled off the shirt and dropped it on the side of the tub to get a wash. More to psychologically cleanse himself of the experience of being _"a suspect"_ and debating when and if his wash kit came back, whether he should shave the beard. He began to run water into the basin.

_Sonny saw them arrive and watched from behind the shutters. Suddenly glad The Cow had made him close down 6 to paint because, Maria he hurried to send home early, had to put them in 7. The lady with the long legs and that big sap they say killed Whitney and is some sort of cop._

Caro Reese finished unpacking the last few things wondering how much the creases would fall out of Rob's suit as she gave the hanger a final shake. Then moved to the window to draw the drapes.

_As soon as he saw them close Sonny and Billy moved swiftly and with practiced silence along the breezeway. Carrying the broom for show, so happy today was the day The Cow went to Flagstaff to shop and knowing the time spent fixing those drapes so they didn't quite shut was worth it. Or might be for him and Billy if the sap decided to have the bitch now. Took over an hour to get that mirror on the wall and the one in the closest door in just the right places._

She tossed the thin bathrobe on the bed, sat on it to remove her shoes and socks and then stood up to unzip her pants.

"Rob? Are you hungry or do you want to wait on the others to eat?"

"Wait if that's okay by you Caro" he called from the bathroom lifting his head from the basin. "One thing about the local lock up was the food was good and plentiful"

_Oh that's nice isn't it Billy? We like black and it matches. That's it bitch don't move. Push them down right where you are. Let Sonny and Billy see. Sure I'll hold you. Turn round. Turn round we want to see…nice…very nice…bet he enjoys all of that. No! No! Not the robe…Billy didn't get enough yet._

Goren finished drying his face and arms as Caro stepped into the bathroom pinning up her hair.

"Water's hot even if the towels are thin and hard as paper"

"Could use a brisk rub down" she smiled. "Wake me up"

He took her by the waist. "Did I say thank you yet Caro?"

"Around fifty times. Double it and it might be enough"

She reached up to his shoulder, resting one hand there and stroking his cheek with the other one "Least this one got by the scratchy stage Rob"

"Was thinking I might shave it. Look less like a mountain man in a suit come Monday?"

"Ron doesn't seem to think you will even have to go back to court. They'll drop it over the weekend"

"Maybe" he took her hands and held them kissing the fingertips. "Caro? I need you tell me"

"Tell you what Rob?"

"That it never…never for one tiny moment crossed your mind…that I might have…could have"

"Don't be so foolish" Caro said softly drawing his mouth down to hers and kissing it gently.

_Don't give up Billy. Not yet. Where is he? Don't do her in there. Not like those people a few weeks back. She really was a screamer wasn't she? Thought the tiles would come off the bathroom walls the way they were going at it didn't we Billy? Just a shame The Cow came looking round the back for us._

"I'll let you get a shower" Goren said.

Caro ran her hands slowly down from his shoulders over his chest, her fingertips barely touching, feeling the reaction of his nipples as she looked up at him.

"I could leave it until after"

"After what?" he said quietly.

"You forgot?"

"Sometimes wished I could" he smiled. "Been times I think I've started to look at Lewis differently"

"Now you did get me worried" her hands rippled down over his sides.

"Not as worried as Lewis would have been"

He sat on the edge of the tub, reached for the tie of the bathrobe, loosened it and then slowly eased it aside.

"God you're beautiful" Goren breathed taking in the body he'd tried not to think too much about at times in the last five weeks.

"Lewis will never know what he's missed" Caro whispered as he began to touch her gently and watching those large hands moving slowly and carefully over her.

"Do you…only I…" he said a little hoarsely.

"Uhuh and about that…"

_They're back Billy! Knew that would please you. Thank you sap. Toss that robe aside now…oh yes turn the bitch round so we can see the best parts. Watch your hands all over her as you rub against her ass. Bite her. Don't make her giggle. Do it there, not on the bed. I know Billy. One day we'll fix things to see all of it. Oh yes…turn her and grab that ass, knead it while you choke her with your tongue. Yeah she's an impatient one isn't she Billy...straight for the zip. Whoa…the sap is kind of raring to go ain't he? No Billy he's tiny. Minute. Of course he is, they all are. Kneel down bitch. He might need the help. Never mind. May not be too late sap. Perhaps she will. Ask her nicely or make her do it to you. No! Don't pull back the covers and get in the bed._

They lay holding each other, kissing softly, talking quietly, and trying to let the heat and urgency fade a little. For themselves and the other. But slowly, gradually they moved to touching and loving each other.

_Good one sap. Uncover her. Let Billy and I see where your mouth is, your hands are. She likes that. They way you do that. You can't see it but we can. In her face. Does she moan a little when you do that? Ask you for more? That's it bitch. Kiss him there. And there. We like that. So does he. You got him panting bitch. And we know…oh yes…oh yes…what you're playing with lady. Driving him crazy isn't it? Yeah Billy I know it is you too fella. That's it sap. Know where your mouth is heading and…yes…yes it got there…we don't need to see it to know. The bitch is showing us. She'll be begging for it soon._

_What was that? No! The Cow's car horn! Ordering him, bossing him from a hundred yards away. Announcing her arrival. The Cow! The Cow is back Billy! Just as he's getting on her. Damn! Hurry up sap…let me see her face when you…be quick moron…forget careful and nice…no kissy I love you shit. Just get on with it! Okay Cow I hear you. Billy? Billy?_

_He moved quickly along the breezeway with his broom full of rage and frustration. And was meekly sweeping outside the office as Mrs Harkness' old Sable drew up and she hauled and grunted and wheezed her large body out. She panted and began to complain about prices at the store in Flagstaff. _

_Got that bitch moaning yet sap? Is he grunting and groaning as he does you? _

_Sonny went to the trunk as he was ordered with a bark. To carry in the bags for his mother waddling inside. _

_Are you secretly wondering bitch? As you rut with that big sap? As you let him have what he wants? Did he? We know he didn't. Don't we Billy? We know who made Whitney moan. Bashed her nasty head in and shut that dirty mouth once and for all. We made her groan didn't we Billy? Do you wonder bitch? Did he do to her what he's doing to you? _

_Sonny kicked shut the door of the private quarters that formed the short side of the L shaped structure. Billy didn't answer. He'd gone to sleep. Ambition frustrated again. He set to unpacking the groceries, getting his overweight mother some tea and confirming the new woman had arrived in seven, _

The occupant she didn't know about yet took a deep breath and turned his head to look at her face.

"Don't say it Rob" said Caro softly. "Told you once before never to"

"I know" he sighed kissing her forehead. "I missed you so much"

"Missed you too. In every way" she stroked his back then wrapped her arms around him.

As if to hold him tight and safe. He finally felt that way as her fingers played gently in the hair over his neck.

They lay tangled together with each other and some of the bedclothes, pondering silently and separately on need. The complex mix it was of the physical and emotional, the ways that it expressed itself and didn't always have to be met to perfection to be perfect.

_**To be continued…**_


	14. Chapter 14

**Friday 8****th**** October**

_**The Knife and Fork Steakhouse, I-40**_

The place just off the Freeway wasn't exactly the kind of _"fine"_ dining or gourmet experience you might choose to celebrate a mostly positive day of outcomes. Spirits were not exactly low again, but they were all aware that Goren was not free and clear of this situation as yet and one or two things that had happened, had acted as a reminder. In one instance a rather ugly reminder and reason not to consider eating at _Brown's_ in Bethlehem.

When Eames, Carver and Lewis got to the police station Drummond was no-where in sight, his office door was firmly shut and they saw a couple of civilians hurry through. Deputy Weaver did the inventory check of Goren's possessions to be returned and also agreed reasonable times for him to report. Was almost apologetic for the routine effect of inspection that resulted in things like toothpaste and soap being cut open and a bottle of sun block emptied to be sure it contained nothing incriminating like drugs, which might have fuelled _"the incident"_

It was also Jay Weaver, without making it sound scary or a threat, said it might be best to avoid the town tonight. Whitney came from quite a large clan, some of them were rowdies, a lot were in town and on a Friday night after drinks and what had happened, it might take time for sense to prevail. But not to worry. The Sheriff would not let things get out of hand. He also mentioned the civilians were on the Town Council. Which was near enough telling them some process of investigation and possible dismissal was underway.

If that did apply to Whitney's uncle, Gary Newcombe, there was double the reason for that wider family group to not want to see any of them. It was Carver who asked where in that case they might eat and Detective Goren adhere to the condition he stay in the County. Weaver told them about the _Steakhouse_ and even said if they didn't decide to go there to call the station. He or Hogan would arrange for a delivery from the diner to the motel.

The scenario wasn't exactly frightening but it was at very least uncomfortable. The three of them agreed as they made the decision to just replace a few essentials for Bobby to say nothing to him and Caro about the possible atmosphere in parts of the town and its population. With luck, things would settle down by tomorrow and if more accurate stories of various things started to circulate as quickly as the original _"half facts and lies"_ that would help.

It was on their way along Main Street quite near _"The Silver Spur_" to replace some of Goren's wash kit, they got the ugly example of what Weaver had hinted at. When Anna Raybold, who looked quite intoxicated, came half staggering over the street, with a guy in his early twenties behind her. As she crossed, she first singled out a startled Lewis with a string of four letter adjectives to describe him as liar who was covering up for his baby-killing pervert of a friend. And when Carver tried to use reason to calm her down, she spat at and missed him. Fell off one of her high heels and described him as worse because he was a paid for liar and an _"n-word"_ one at that. And it wasn't _"New Yorker"_ she meant either.

Just as Eames was starting to think she might have to use some method of restraint on Mrs Raybold if she stepped onto the sidewalk, three cowboy types from inside the bar came running over. Two more or less picking her up to carry her off and shoving away the guy, who had just egged her on. While the third, politely apologised and said maybe a bad mistake had been made.

Back at the motel, Eames found herself firmly suggesting they all travel together. Found she was checking the rear view more often as they had to drive through the town and privately wishing, for the first time, she had been able to bring her gun with her. Even crossed her mind to see if she could borrow one if anything happened to worry her. Johnnie almost certainly had at least a rifle, though Carver would be livid if he found out and illegal possession was illegal possession whatever the circumstances. As they drove to the _Steakhouse_ she was sure Goren sitting beside her picked up on her frequent mirror checks on an almost empty country road, though he said nothing.

She made a conscious extra effort to make sure she didn't look worried and pre-occupied and once they got to the _Steakhouse_, the good food and friendly reception helped. So did people around who seemed to be travellers or staying at the motel across the Freeway which fell into another county. Eames felt herself relax at not getting those curious stares for a while and it was as if they were all determined to have a _"night off"_ from the recent worries. The five of them at times laughing as much as they were eating and Ron Carver especially good company when he was _"off duty"_ and not a way Eames had ever seen him that much.

They had reached the dessert course and she and Caro were joking about which of the largest, most chocolate laden options they might go for.

"What is it with women and chocolate?" mused Ron who had opted for a modest and healthy fruit salad, no cream.

"Perpetual PMT" said Lewis.

"And what would you know about that?" snapped Alex

She watched him reel back into the seat and then grinned. "Got you!"

"Walked right into that one didn't you pal?" muttered Goren. "I'll have the Key lime pie, hold the cream too please ma'am"

"I'll have the same with cream please" said Lewis. "Unlike some I don't have to worry about the waistline"

"And we'll have the _Who Cares Anymore_ and two spoons" said Caro.

The server smiled and took away the menus.

"Not wishing to be rude Bobby, but you seem as if you lost a few pounds on this trip"

"Try living on any of Lewis' cooking for five weeks and see what it does for you Ron" replied Goren. "I think we should convert that VW to run on pure charcoal, the amount of food he manages to burn"

"I'll send my wife on your next road trip and fund it myself. Be cheaper than a whole new wardrobe next time she gains or loses four pounds"

"Weight is the obsession of our age" said Caro. "For women especially though we are seeing more male patients every year"

"I read that" said Eames. "Though I guess for them, it's more the same obsessions they always had?"

She and Caro exchanged a look and a nod and a grin.

"I think I can work out what one is" said Carver. "Dare I ask the others?"

"Frequency" said Goren succinctly.

"I say people lie on those sex surveys"

"Only because you always think everyone's getting more than you Lewis"

"Well you are Bob"

All four of them burst out laughing as Lewis shrugged.

"Maybe we should change the subject?" said Carver. "Would this be the time to plan our strategy for tomorrow?"

There seemed to be general agreement as Goren suggested he begin.

"I still want to check out that scene for myself. Just hope I don't have to think about serving Mr Fraser to get access. I'd like to do that tomorrow. Before more time passes and to take up Mr Belray's offer of help"

"Maybe we should also see what else we can dig up on Sonny Harkness?" suggested Lewis.

"What about him?" asked Goren as the server arrived with the tray and knowing he would have to wait on an answer.

Eames shifted uncomfortably wondering if they should have told him about that earlier. It was only once they were in town it suddenly crossed her mind. But Sonny didn't seem to be around and telling Bobby and Caro the motel owner's son was a possible peeper and voyeur was hardly a romantic or encouraging context for any _"reunion"_ they may or may not have had.

"Shall I?" asked Carver.

"Please do" said Eames diving into the chocolate dessert with Caro.

_**To be continued…**_


	15. Chapter 15

**Friday 8****th**** October**

_**The Knife And Fork, I-40**_

Carver told all they knew. That Johnnie Belray seemed certain Sonny had a previous for sexual assault, but more relevant might be the link to Whitney. Janey Yelland occasionally did extra work servicing rooms at the motel during periodic busy spells. One of those had been last fall when the place was booked out, along with many other rooms in the area, for construction workers. Undertaking major work on the Freeway to replace a bridge.

Whitney had fallen in with one of them and behind Ed Creasy's back, was visiting him in his room at the motel. She had heard the stories that people said Sonny was a _"peeper"_ and _"creepy"_ but thought that was probably rubbish. Because of his cross-eyes and Ma Harkness who had never been popular in town, there was a lot of unjustified meanness to him. But then she saw it for herself one day at the motel, when she knew Whitney was along the breezeway with this Jim O'Connor.

When Janey told her, far from being embarrassed, Whitney thought it was hilarious and Jim must have too. Because a week later Janey came out from cleaning one of the empty rooms to see Sonny staring in a window. Talking to himself and obviously touching himself. The drapes were wide open in Jim's room and Whitney's pick up was in the lot. She wanted nothing to do with it, but her impression was they almost had some sort of arrangement. And got away with doing it so boldly because all the other construction workers there were working days and O'Connor was a night shift supervisor.

Eames caught the brief look between Goren and Caro Reese, which made her feel sick even if they covered it well. She knew in that fraction of a second, they had made love earlier and were wondering if Sonny had tried to spy on them or listened at the door. Her only comfort was that they would have pulled the drapes.

"Needless to say" said Ron pushing aside his dessert bowl. "Even when the association with this construction worker ended, Whitney wasn't totally rid of Sonny. Janey said he'd come up and say things, leer I suppose, more than he would dare to at any other woman. She felt Whitney teased and tormented him for months and then when she got bored with it, she threatened him with the one thing she knew would scare him"

Caro licked her spoon. "His mother. You have the rest Alex"

"Yes?" frowned Ron. "Excuse me Dr Reese I was forgetting myself and your expertise for a moment"

"Just a guess really" she shrugged. "Dominant sort of woman is she?"

"Very much" said Eames. "Not only that. These shows Whitney and this Jim put on were mostly Mondays. Mrs Harkness always goes to Winslow on Mondays. To visit her sister. Is gone from about lunchtime to well into the evening, coming back after dinner according to Janey"

"I see where you all might be going" said Goren. "If his mother was gone Monday this Sonny was probably at the motel on his own at the time Whitney was killed. Might have seen her truck go by and followed her?"

"So why was she going down that road?" asked Caro. "I suppose it's possible she was trying to head you off Rob but as I remember the map, that road only really goes to Mesa Creek and then eventually up onto the Navajo Nation land"

"It does" said Lewis. "But few people take it to get there. We didn't. It's quicker to take the freeway and the next turn off to get to any settlements on there. But tell them the rest Alex"

"Janey was under the impression Whitney has been seeing a man. Unusually, one she wasn't open about when she was split from Ed. Possibly married because of that and with spare cash would make him rare around here. Whitney had ambitious tastes. Things like clothes Janey saw, some expensive jewellery and a big, new HD TV set up. Not things she could afford on what she earns. Like she came into extra money the last few months?"

"She gets child support I assume?" frowned Goren his coffee cup halfway to his mouth.

"Ah yes" said Ron. "But our discussion with the Creasy's revealed that Charlie, who really pays it gives it mostly in the form of kind. Clothes, groceries and pays some utility bills. And most often to Anna Raybold, where Jason lives most of the time"

"Not only that Goren" said Eames. "Janey half wondered if it was Charlie Creasy she might be seeing for her to keep it so quiet. For all his alleged dislike of her, he'd fit the bill of married with money and big reason for Whitney to say nothing. But when the words rape and murder started going round Tuesday morning her first thought was Sonny Harkness"

"Might have been Drummond's too but for me being one of the last people she was seen with and my footprints at or near the scene"

"Might still have been if Janey had spoken to him" muttered Lewis. "But by then the town had you halfway to the State pen"

"Does he fit the profile of a rapist Bobby?"

"Need to know a lot more about him first Ron. If you are asking me do people escalate from peeping through assault? Yes. You know they do" he glanced at Caro.

"Don't look at me Rob. I have no professional toes to be trodden on. None that hurt"

He smiled at her fondly. "I was just going to add from a criminology point of view we are fairly certain there is more gradual escalation in sex offending than we know of. Because of the under reporting of many lesser offences and the difficulty of getting convictions in them"

"Sadly that is true" said Ron. "I would say in about twenty percent of rape cases I dealt with, unknown victims came forward, once we caught the guy"

"And it's easier to rape a woman once you bashed her on the head" said Lewis. "No screams, no chance of her taking a bite out of you and say it was Sonny? He's not so big or scary he would frighten a girl like Whitney into submitting. Not unless he had a gun or a knife"

"We are a long way from hard fact and perhaps getting Drummond to listen to that. I'm on leave and Alex has no jurisdiction here" said Goren quietly

"We talked about that Bobby" said Eames with a glance at Ron. "It's not our job to solve this crime and while we are a lot further on proving you didn't do it, I'm not sure until we can point the way, get people like Janey to tell what she knows, we'll convince Drummond to look elsewhere"

"Depends on how much he feels this boat is sinking after today" shrugged Carver. "I'm willing to put in a bit more time to knock a few more holes in it if needs be"

"We all are" said Lewis. "And to prove it I'll pick up the check as my first contribution"

"You sure Lewis?" asked Eames "Only we still have…"

"Oh let him" scoffed Goren. "He may look like he's down to his last two dimes but he made more money last year than I did. You've seen that place of his Eames? Did it look deserted to you?"

"That's true"

"That was last year" grinned Lewis. "Time I get back home Tony will have run the shop into the ground. And how do you know I made more than you last year Bob?"

"Because I helped you sort out your tax returns numbskull. That's another reason you have money Lewis. You don't pay an accountant do you?"

_**To be continued…**_


	16. Chapter 16

**Friday 8****th****/Saturday 9****th**** October**

_**Room 4, The Desert Inn**_

Carver, in the absence of Mrs Carver to tell him otherwise and a capacious laundry basket, left his worn clothes on a chair or in the case of his shorts and socks, on the floor. Wondering briefly what she paid for pyjamas he only ever wore the bottom half of and relieved his eldest son and heir had a good week at school when they spoke. He might be finding Math hard right now, but that didn't excuse bad behaviour in class and the detention would have done him no harm. It never had him.

Ron was hopeful that with a few more pieces of the puzzle provided for him and the results from the laboratory, that this time tomorrow Drummond might have dropped this nonsense. If so, he could probably make it back to New York on Sunday in time to give Paul and bi-lateral equations some undivided paternal attention.

But he had been mildly worried earlier as he sensed Alex Eames was, when they saw one of the Bethlehem Police Department cruisers pull up in the parking lot. Not quite expecting a torch bearing, lynch mob to appear next around the corner, but also hoping it was not some kind of unsubtle additional surveillance about to be mounted.

Lewis had been at his shoulder when he went out to see what it was about. Turned out to be that Deputy, Weaver, doing a routine patrol but also getting out to offer some re-assurance. Seemed an ideal opportunity to raise with him the continuing reluctance of Mr Fraser _"next door"_ to give them access on his land. Weaver went off saying he would speak to him. Explain the rights of an attorney and twenty minutes later he was back. With positive news.

So the day was ending well but for one thing. The total thrashing Mr Lewis had given him in two games of chess played on a small board he and Goren had with them. He knew by then Bobby's friend from college never graduated in engineering, as his rather conventional sounding parents had hoped he would. Was clearly no fool, but Carver had played on his own college team, so didn't expect to be humiliated so badly or taken for thirty bucks into the bargain.

He'd take up with Goren next morning the fact he said nothing, as he left them setting up to play. Never could read all Bobby's expressions but he probably knew what would happen when Mr Lewis suggested a wager to add a little spice.

_**Room 5**_

Alex Eames winced as she pulled the waxed strip off her shin and like millions of women, wondered why on earth she ever got onto this painful and perpetual treadmill. Doing to a perfectly natural thing to have on various parts of your body, something made your eyes water. And worse in some places than where she was attending to at that moment.

_Almost certainly had to do with men_. Who might think it _"unfeminine"_ for a woman to have hair certain places, but cling to their own in the same places because it was _"un-masculine"_ not to have it. Further proof of either how sensible, two faced or cowardly they were and probably a mixture of all three.

Two men had been in the forefront of her mind all evening. Firstly, Goren whose safety she had the jitters about for a while and was still was having trouble _"reading"._ One minute he seemed almost laconic, relaxed and content to let her and Ron drive this situation in terms of things to do and priorities. Like he was truly _"the client"_ bamboozled by the legal and investigative process.

Then the next, he was like a guided missile into some of the paperwork they spread out on the table and pointing out something they did not see or consider especially important. The lab report on Whitney's clothes and specifically the minute skirt and panties she was wearing when she was found. Nothing especially unexpected on them and certainly nothing to incriminate him.

But it was Goren who spotted it did make mention of a couple of _"spots or streaks"_ of a substance identified as a wax type polish. Specifically one included oil of _"Lavendula spica"_ or as it sounded, _"lavender"._ General agreement was that it sounded an old fashioned kind of substance compared to modern and easier to use cleaners.

Tomorrow they would be checking if it could be bought in town and whether Whitney's duties at _"The Silver Spur"_ included cleaning. If so, it was possible the polish transferred from her hands when she went to the bathroom. If not, it opened up the option it came from whoever had sex with her. Just so frustrating the lab was not specific exactly where.

And though he'd still declined to take the whole folder he'd surrendered weeks ago with him, Bobby had taken her notes out to read when they dispersed to their own rooms. So much for Caroline getting his undivided attention once they were alone. To hear stories from his trip he was saving to tell her and any other romantic little things she might have hoped for. They might have done one of them, but unless he was using little blue pills it was unlikely Goren was good to go again on that one yet. Not at his age.

If it were different, Eames would have even more reason to feel irrational irritation with him. It was Goren's unwittingly _"fault"_ she had ended up having a bicker with the second man. Dave, on the telephone a while back. True, she had rather forgotten the time difference but didn't entirely believe him when he made out he was asleep by the time; _"you've finally bothered to call Alex"._ There was nothing to stop him dialling Arizona and she was sure it was just Dave behaving childishly that he had not.

But Eames could not deny that for much of the conversation she had regaled him with near enough every minute of the day and found her mouth running away. As she explained theories and findings in a level of detail Dave would not want to hear, even if he wasn't woken. Was pleased that Goren was out of jail but when she finally asked about him and his day, the reply had been _"Oh so you did eventually think about me? Even if you forgot it's Mom's birthday and we were supposed to have dinner with them tonight"._

If he was spoiling for a fight, she came within an ace of giving it to him before stopping herself. Eames ripped more bodily hair out almost viciously. Punishing herself for her part in that, wondering if she was starting to look for more reasons to cool their relationship and wishing she wasn't looking forward so much to seeing Johnnie Belray next day.

_**Room 3**_

Lewis glanced out of the window of his darkened room across the angle of the building to the room he suspected might be that of Sonny Harkness. He'd had a _"bad vibe"_ about that guy the morning he checked in and had tried to convince himself, it was just an unkind and unworthy prejudice about someone who was _"different"._

He had been subjected to that more than a few times as a kid as the only one in first grade needed spectacles and knew with all he had in his life, Bob had been tormented as well. Because of his Mom, because he was so smart and because he wasn't the sort of sheep so many were at High School.

But the way Sonny crept about the place, the way you could hardly step outside without him or that mother appearing was obvious. Johnnie catching him out the other evening and what they had learned since only confirmed that first impressions were not always wrong. And through the evening, since they got back from dinner and Bob reporting to the police station, Lewis had kept watch. Was sure every time there was a movement from any of them, the drapes twitched.

Not really wanting to go through all the reports and the rest again, especially those pictures, Lewis had made himself useful. Neither he nor Bobby were overloaded with clothes in the camper and when he got his own back from the cops, Lewis had washed near enough every stitch at Johnnie's place. A _"head thing"_ to feel they were _"tainted"._

So he'd offered to do the same with Bob's, using the washer and drier in Room 1 that acted as customer service area. Contained them, an iron, a couple of vending machines and the ice machine and you got a key to it. He might be a lousy cook but he'd never shrunk his friend's clothes, nor sent his white t-shirt blue with his jeans.

The company of Caro at times to do that was welcome and Lewis wasn't sure why she didn't stay all the time they were talking about the case. _Perhaps she expected to get an earful later from Bobby, like it or not? Or maybe it was one of the ways she was so damned good for him?_ _That she did keep a distance from a lot of the nasty stuff he dealt with, so she would be like a little island where he could get way from all that?_ Not Lewis's own type in a lot of ways, but they got on fine and she seemed to handle Bob pretty well. And most important he was happy.

But each time they moved along the breezeway those drapes moved, even when the light was off inside. And his and Caroline's trips to the service room meant they both noticed something perhaps the others had not. That what was the bathroom was now marked _"STORE"_ and a floor buffer stood outside. Locked, but Lewis knew he could pick that with no trouble.

_Question now was whether to do it tonight? Or wait until morning when Caro had said she would help him? _ If only by keeping watch or making sure Sonny and Ma were both tied up in reception where they were usually to be found first thing.

_**Room 7**_

Caro had already stirred twice in the bed the other side of the room where she had quickly gone to sleep after a long and hectic day. Goren finally quit going over the selection of papers he'd brought along with him. He crept through to the bathroom more or less in the dark, after switching off the lamp by the table. Thinking as he took a leak and brushed his teeth as quietly as possible, his brain was really _"stop/go"_ right now.

Possibly still numbed by the experience of the last couple of days or maybe it was just he'd had five weeks of not being a cop. Got rusty and out of practice as he felt, _correction_, knew he had been with something else earlier. But then he guessed he had some of the same _"issues"_ around that as any guy, no matter how much you knew and plain common sense told you.

To say it initially horrified him when he heard about this Sonny Harkness's voyeuristic behaviours would be understatement. But Goren should have known as Caro flashed him that look over the dinner table, she wasn't the kind to squawk. Let everyone know they'd made love in that hour or so and were worried they might have been listened to or spied on.

Should have guessed too, when they did get a chance to discuss it Caro would be, if not delighted at the prospect, very _"wise"_ in her reaction. Pointing out to him it didn't actually change what it was about for them and what they were feeling at the time for each other, still did and still would.

It was Sonny's problem, not theirs, if he was one ear to the door and to a degree that instinct was in everyone. Otherwise teenaged pop idols would never pose with their shirts off, Hugh Heffner would be a poor man and the San Fernando Valley in LA just another stretch of _"burb",_ not the centre of a multi million dollar adult film industry.

Caro was right, if it happened, which she usually was. Same as she was right to tell him to stop fussing, let her do his damn washing with Lewis and enjoy it. It would be a _"one time only"_ event.

As he undressed by the bed and tossed his clothes on a nearby chair, including the new shorts, Goren wasn't about to worry about the pair he usually slept in. The cops had them and this was much nicer. Snuggled his nakedness carefully but quickly against Caro's before either felt any chill on a night was clear and cold.

She was just sort of mumbling in her sleep and snuggling back into him, when the moon must have cleared a cloud. Goren found himself blinking as a ray of thin light seemed to bounce round the room and into his face.

"_You little shit"_ he thought as he lay there for a moment working out why he could see a post that held up the breezeway.

Doubting Sonny Harkness was well versed in light refraction and trigonometry and must have relied on maybe hours of fiddling adjustments, Goren slid out of bed. In the bathroom he picked up a bath sheet and then able to reach, draped it over the mirror on the far end wall.

"Rob?" mumbled Caro as he got back into bed. "What you doing?"

"Nothing baby" he said sliding his arm round her. "Go to sleep"

"Unh"

Goren couldn't see the post any more. That meant Sonny, if he was prowling, couldn't see them. Could distinctly recall anyway, what must be his mother bawling at him, just before he and Caro finally lost themselves with each other. But he'd worry about helping to nail Sonny's hide to the barn when there was more evidence against him.

_**To be continued…**_


	17. Chapter 17

**Saturday 9****th**** October**

_**Room 7, The Desert Inn**_

"You did what?!"

Goren spat soap and water and jerked back the shower curtain.

"I got into the storeroom…hey! Careful with that water Bobby" yelped Lewis.

He turned down the faucet.

"There are tins of lavender polish in there. Dozens of them. Ma Harkness must have gone to a fire sale or something" his friend shrugged. "Don't worry Caro kept them busy down in reception. They didn't see me"

"Oh great" he murmured tossing the sponge into the far end of the tub. "Now you are involved in this too"

Caroline said nothing. Just leaned against the tiled wall and wondered if Rob knew how foolish soapy indignation made him look. Especially when his head was almost touching the ceiling in the low bathroom and the showerhead would go no higher than his chest.

He gave his hair a quick rub. "Doesn't mean it matches what was on Whitney's clothes"

"That's why we took a sample" smiled Lewis.

Goren made an indistinct yelping sound as shampoo went in his eye and mouth and before he could say anything Lewis went on.

"Detective Alex gave me things from that kit and told me what to do? So it's not contaminated or something" he grinned.

"Oh this just gets better and better" Bobby groaned.

"Want me to go get Alex so you can stand there and tell her off too?" asked Caro. "She's just outside"

Goren suddenly seemed to grasp the absurdity of his situation.

"No" he almost pulled the shower curtain off the rail as he flung it back across and turned the water on more fully.

"Tell Eames to start working out how to explain burglary to Carver. Or was he also acting as a lookout?"

"No" said Lewis. "We were sort of hoping you would do that"

"And hurry up" muttered Caro. "We're all hungry"

He spat soap again and muttered something indistinct and watery sounding as they left.

_**"The Silver Spur Bar", Bethlehem**_

When they arrived in town, again all in the Taurus, it was quietly starting to bustle and Eames had got no sense any of the looks were hostile or the mainly women and kids about were liable to be _"a problem"._ One or two stood on a street corner as they all got out, even gave them weak smiles and nods. Word might be getting round or people like Jay Weaver made sure it did.

The proprietor of _"Brown's Diner"_ greeted them as friendly as the last time and even said she was pleased to meet Goren she must have had little difficulty identifying. But seeing the door of the bar across the street flung open, Eames and Carver took their chance. While their breakfasts, modest in his case, large with near enough everything in hers, were being cooked. To hopefully clear one thing on their list.

It was like every Western bar you ever saw in any movie as they stepped into the slightly gloomy interior from the sunny street outside. With the sort of fittings and fixtures were probably original and possibly valuable these days. So many had been ripped out, tossed away and burned by successive generations across the country in search of the more modern and convenient, it was only now their true value was being recognised in every sense.

The large wooden bar ran the length of one side with a worn and scarred counter, largely covered at that moment in used bottles and glasses. Eames could almost see a glass of sarsaparilla being whizzed along the surface to Doris Day. While Carver imagined himself brushing off trail dust, resting a jangling spurred boot on the brass rail and asking for a glass _of "y'all best sipping whiskey bar-keep"._ All it lacked were spittoons, though perhaps the floor beneath the modern tiles and carpet in the rest of the place showed plenty of evidence. Of the many who missed them down the years expectorating tobacco laden phlegm.

Behind, was a solid run of dark wooden shelves looked solid enough to be the only thing left standing if a nuclear bomb dropped somewhere nearby. Lots of _"barley twist"_ carving and two of the large mirrors between spotted with age and in need of re-silvering. The modern drinks dispensers and optics didn't totally ruin the effect and all that was lacking was a central picture of a voluptuous, naked woman reclining on a couch. Where you might expect to see that, there was a tiled motif of an enormous bull. One with enormous horns and an enormous pair of the reason why you kept a male bovine _"whole"_ and didn't turn him into a steer.

The rest was wooden tables and chairs and on the _"street wall",_ a small platform where once female dancers might have flashed their bloomers and garters for the customers. But now housed speakers and other sound equipment. They and the nearby jukebox and games machines, twenty first century testament to modern entertainment. All it lacked were a set of stairs going up to rooms where girls would sell their services or for the likes of Gene Autry or Roy Rogers to check into. Never, of course, taking up offers like that and always cleaning up _"Dodge"_ or wherever it was.

Where they might be expected to be, at the far end, were the two pools tables where Goren had played his fateful game of pool with Whitney Raybold and probably her last. Eames could well see as they looked around, why at that distance he would have been unaware of the young woman. Possibly putting her number on his neglected phone for it to be found there.

Both Eames and Carver startled as door opened at the back and middle-aged woman they half expected to be Marlene Dietrich or Jane Russell stepped through. Not with her legs showing above lace up boots or with her bosom swelling over exposed corsetry. But then with a heavy crate of beer in her hands, jeans, check shirt and sneakers were probably more practical.

"Good morning ma'am" said Carver half going to raise the ten-gallon hat he wasn't wearing. "We're…"

"I know who y'all are" she drawled stepping round his attempt to help her with the crate.

"And you must be the dame my old man Ronny chased from round back t'other day. I'm Kate and I own this joint. How can I help you folks since I reckon it's not the vacant waiting job y'all are here fer?"

_**Brown's Diner**_

When they returned neither Eames, nor any of the others, had yet worked out how to tell Ron Carver about their early morning illicit snooping. When he was in believed to be in the shower and Goren in bed. Having to make do with the cup of coffee Caro handed him, unable to persuade her back into it with him and wondering what plane she had to catch, she seemed unusually anxious to get her clothes on and step outside.

But they were, between mouthfuls of beans, bacon, eggs, hash browns and the rest, able to tell them useful information gleaned from Kate. To the effect Whitney's duties had never extended to cleaning of any sort and it was as much sometimes to expect _"that gal"_ to put dirty glasses in the dishwasher. She did all the cleaning herself and never used the sort of polish they were describing.

The only time she turned slightly hostile was when the issue of money came up. Finishing his coffee and Eames finishing hash brown he didn't want; Carver explained that was a misunderstanding. Kate seemed to think he was implying she was letting Whitney sell her favours via her job.

"Told me the bar never did that kind of trade. In fact the original house of ill repute in town is now the Baptist minister's home. I see a certain poetic balance in that. Wonder if he knows?"

"Fascinating" said Goren who sounded far from it. "So?"

Eames swallowed and reached for her large mug of coffee. "So…excuse me…Kate had noticed too a few more clothes, an expensive purse as well. Wondered though she never seriously suspected Whitney of thieving, if her fingers were in the register, so kept an extra watch for a while. Think she knows more than she said about that, don't you Ron?"

"I do and that she kept a close eye on Whitney and her husband too"

"Supports Janey's idea there was extra money in her life" shrugged Caro. "Two separate sources saying the same thing now"

"Anyway then she got back to hoisting chairs onto tables and we knew we were not going to get more out of her right then" said Eames. "Kept expecting her to throw her foot on one and start singing _'see vot the zee boys in zee back room vill haf'_. It's really that kind of place Caro"

"_Destry Rides Again_" said Carver and Goren in unison and with a slightly shocked glance at each other.

"What?" frowned Lewis spreading jelly on toast.

"James Stewart don't…uh…you just…uh…love that…uh…voice" said Caroline dreamily.

"Oh movie geeks" growled Goren's buddy scornfully. "Don't you just hate them?"

"Now here's a question for three of you at the table" Carver pushed up his spectacles and spoke softly. "Just what were you doing up and down that breezeway this morning? Between your rooms, reception and that service room?"

"Getting to know our delightful hosts better" said Caro cooler than the pats of butter in the dish. "Mrs Torrance and her charming boy better known as _Here's Sonny_"

"Now that I do know" said Lewis. "_The Shining_ right? And speaking of things being shiny and polished Mr Carver…"

_**To be continued…**_


	18. Chapter 18

**Saturday 9****th**** October**

_**Barber Shop, Bethlehem**_

Ron Carver had less of an apoplexy than you might expect when he heard the news of what Lewis, Caro and Alex to use his words, _"had conspired jointly"_ to do that morning. Being in a public place when Lewis told him was a good strategy and give the rather proper, former DA his due. After suitable, legal dire warning and the reminder without scientific test to prove match they had proved nothing, he suggested a way in which they might use the information.

When he paid an official visit to Sheriff Drummond as he planned to enquire about outstanding lab results, he would point out himself that line of the report. It would further undermine the flimsy case against Bobby and if need be Ron would actually comment on smelling lavender around the motel.

After signing Goren in at the Police Station where Drummond's _Land Cruiser_ was no-where to be seen and Deputy Madison saying little, they had returned to Main Street with a little time to kill before they were due to meet Johnnie Belray and his great uncle. It was seeing a man about to go in the barber's shop; Goren suddenly suggested they put him down.

He could see the hesitation in his partner's face before he agreed to take Lewis with him and explained. The guy he saw was Nate Daniels. The man he'd waited to see in the bar and one of those who had given an accurate version of what went on between him and Whitney before he left Monday night. Even though he worked maintenance on Charlie Creasy's trucks. Felt he owed him thanks and that he might stand more chance of getting any further information from him.

When he and Lewis walked in it was like a time warp being a very old fashioned place of the sort to cut exclusively men's hair you saw far less of these days. Not _unisex,_ few frills and with none of that _"Metrosexual"_ stuff like _"highlights"_ and _"head massages"_ you got back in New York. And it took Goren back to his own childhood seeing the two small boys sat on boxes in the chairs to clear their blond heads of the high backs. Chairs very like a dental chair, which made sense when you knew back in the days of Doc Holiday, who was in fact a dentist, the two professions, were often interchangeable. Barbers often acted as untrained dentists in small towns and vice versa.

It might have been himself and Frank sat there to get their own haircut, with Dad waiting nearby and telling them to sit still and quit wriggling. Especially so in his case, because as a small boy, he'd hated having it done. Probably got it in his head first time seeing the chair it was a trick and he was at the dentist after all. Something he grew out of eventually, though Goren could still recall the maternal angst when he returned home. With his _"lovely curls"_ all cut off that she would allow to grow. Until his father deemed Bobby was fast looking sissy and Frankie unable to see where he was going, their hair grew so inconveniently fast.

So long as Dad wasn't too hung over Saturday morning trips to Mr Ducatti's shop could be fun and if he was flush with cash, he and his brother might expect a small toy or some kind of treat. Usually edible and according to Mom, certain to ruin their appetite for lunch. It never did since their capacity to eat was another phenomenon the Goren boys grew up thinking must be freakish about them.

The father took his newly shorn boys to the little counter to pay and Goren sat down beside Nate Daniels. The man ahead went to one chair as they began to speak.

"Wanted to thank you sir" Goren said softly. "For…um…not exaggerating what occurred Monday night over the street"

"Telling the truth you mean son?" Daniels muttered. "Not sure it did you much good but from what…"

He stopped as the proprietor indicated he was next and Daniels waved to Lewis to say he could go ahead. Goren's friend looked aghast for a second at the prospect of having unfamiliar scissors near his hair, but a look from Bobby more or less told him he had to go so he could continue the conversation. You would think Lewis been asked to swallow hemlock for him, his steps were so reluctant to the chair and the look as he slid off his jacket, was baleful.

The long and very one-sided conversation the first customer was having with the assistant on fall stock prices and Lewis making a fuss about what constituted less than an inch, gave Goren chance. Not just to elicit something from Barnes about his cell phone he'd not realised was important and swore he'd set straight with those _"fool cops"._ But for him to confide something else to a man he now knew was a cop and didn't strike him as a _"fool one"_. Something he did want to keep quiet, fearing for a family member if word got out and which did confirm something Goren had been wondering himself since Monday night.

As Barnes switched places with the rancher sort and minute ends of Lewis's hair hit the floor, Goren thought. How few things in life were as they seemed, how much more complicated they were and trying to remember when he had first realised that. Decided the puzzles of human behaviour interested him as much as the jigsaw kind and those of the physical world around him. Round about the same age as when he worked out something from the Saturday visits to the barbershop.

He had always assumed the times when Dad sent he and Frank on ahead as he paid for two or often three sessions in the dreaded chair, it was so they could make their minds up about ice-cream flavours or peer in a nearby toy store window until he caught up to them. It was older and more knowledgeable about many things, Goren discovered back in those days apart from pharmacies, barbershops were the other places that sold condoms. The days when only men expected to buy them and they were not next to the cornflakes. That was when he realised what Dad was probably buying those times he sent them off and what the phrase _"will there be anything else sir?"_ he never understood had to be about.

It was a childhood puzzle solved, but also another childhood fantasy shattered. Because by that time Bobby had also learned Mom could not physically have any more babies. He'd once asked for a younger brother to pick on for himself. And once he learned what _"rubbers"_ were for and where you could get them, he realised what his father must be doing. A lot of other disparate puzzle pieces also fell into place. The arguments, the tears, Dad's changes to habit and the smells were sometimes on him when he did come home. Sometimes the answers to life's puzzles were not very pretty.

"Bob?" said Lewis in a tone indicated it wasn't for the first time.

"Yeah" he sighed as he stood up, his own hair and the beard still in tact.

The proprietor looked disappointed. There was good trade walking out the door onto Main Street.

_**To be continued…**_


	19. Chapter 19

**Saturday 9****th**** October**

_**The Yard, Mesa Creek Ranch**_

They were mostly clear to walk in that area apart from a section taped off where everyone was agreed it was hard to tell there was anything in the stony dirt that looked to them like footprints. Except Goren wasn't disputing this was the route he would have walked from its edge by the corrals, that had horses staring over the fences at them, to where the VW was parked.

He left it to Lewis to show Carver and Eames where exactly that was. Behind the old bunkhouse now acted as a mix of storeroom and locker rooms for hands would usually wash up there after a days work and before in ninety percent of cases, heading off _"the spread"._ To where they lived with wives and families, though the kitchen was still functioning and served apparently to feed them occasionally. Long shifts during calving or in winter when sometimes snow could block roads making the commute both pointlessly long and hazardous for some. So they would _"live in"_ a day or two until conditions improved.

Johnnie had explained that when he'd taken them through Monday afternoon to explain what was where and whilst it didn't make a difference to the case against him, the other two _"seeing for with their own eyes"_ helped. Why Lewis could not have seen, moving from an old machine shed into the bunkhouse bathroom, that Goren was back at the VW so there was a further and perhaps critical, half hour of his time unaccounted for by a witness. His best guess how long he was back before Lewis appeared, during which time he'd seen the useless water pump outside on the ground and made a start on supper.

He waited leaning against the Taurus. While Caro made a couple of calls to deal with a minor crisis and where the scenery was better. Watching her pet one or two of the curious ponies were still the best way of doing a lot of jobs around cattle. Hearing how the three of them had gone on a minor souvenir hunt given what a place like Bethlehem could offer and emerged from a store with at least one jar of _"Cactus Jelly"_ each. Made from the fruit of the prickly pear or what the Israeli's called _"sabra"_ he told her and getting scolded for it. Caro had been hoping to amaze him with new information.

"You know that's one of your most infuriating traits don't you Rob?"

"It has been said once or twice before" he replied mildly.

When she smiled at him, Goren wondered why the heck when this was sorted out he didn't just leave Lewis, the VW and all this behind. Go back to New York with Caroline, pray for _The Yankmes_ not to make the World Series and make love with her while the crowd at _The Bronx Zoo_ wept for weeks.

"That Newcombe getting fired all bar the rubber stamp from the Town Council must make a difference surely?" she said scratching the nose of a grey.

"As Ron would say it might _'speak to the credibility'_ of some of the other evidence Drummond and his boys touched or collected. Like my clothes they still have"

"Were you never…no I shouldn't ask…" she said quickly.

"Sure I was tempted. More than once. Any cop says he or she hasn't been is a liar. Do I need to tell you I didn't?"

"No" she moved closer to him. "But only because to you it would be failure not success. That you couldn't work it out, sort it out or get it out of someone"

"Mmm" he draped his arms round her as she leaned against his chest. "Didn't work you out yet though Caro"

"Good" she giggled into his shirt. "Means I've got a bit of time left".

"More than you realise. I expect Mrs Winterbottom you all ran into was a relieved woman. With Walt the one to find the earring?"

"Uhuh" she let him go and re-pinned a stray hair or two she had tied back.

"Even though that phone book slipped I don't think Newcombe is a bad man" Goren said folding his arms.

"Out of his depth? Like the rest? That's what Alex and Ron think. And too proud to call in State for help"

"Probably. And when you plant evidence that's the way to try to do it. Not be the one who finds it, be as far away as you can and try not to dump a buddy in it. Walt as I understand it was not down at the pens. Not him or Madison the other part timer" he shifted his feet and his ass against the Ford. _"Oh you go ahead and start the search guys, will be good experience for you. I'll stay here and fill some forms"_

Caro smiled "More or less what she said. What I can't make out right now is where you are on all this Rob. You or the cop?"

"Me neither and there is something I didn't say which Daniels told me"

"Why not?"

"Not sure. Just a feeling" he said quietly. "Probably nothing and before you ask, it's nothing will get me out of Bethlehem County quicker. But since I'm constrained by the release conditions I might need you to do something for me later Caro. When you go to Flagstaff. Help me scratch an itch and without anyone breaking the law even more"

"Sure" she turned "Looks like our guides are arriving"

"Uhuh that's Johnnie's Dodge. Nice truck" Goren mused.

"Forget it Rob" Caro muttered. "You'll look a prize fool driving one of those round Manhattan or Brooklyn"

"Spoilsport" he growled as the truck drew nearer and the other three came through the gap in the outbuildings.

* * *

Frederick Belray was a slightly stooped man close to eighty years of age with a highly wrinkled face and like his great nephew that day, wearing his grey/white hair in two braids. But as they discovered Bislahalani, to give him his Navajo name, was a sharp as a knife as they walked west away from the yard. At the best approximation to the pace at which Goren thought he walked that night. On the largely vegetation free edge of the rutted ranch road.

He'd already said to Ron he walked there not in it, because of the ruts, which still had some water in them. Fred Belray also explained to the attorney that was one reason _"this fellow"_ was easy for Drummond to trail even 36 hours later and still should be today. There had been a brief, localised rainstorm Monday morning in the Bethlehem area. Not so much time early evening came for Goren to have got muddy, but just enough. To soften the ground sufficiently to leave sharper prints, which had not faded too badly in the days since. No more rain and not too much wind to do that. That plus his weight, his stride, the size of his feet and distinctive way of walking

It was quite an education for Goren as he tried not to feel self-conscious and _"walk strange"_ when Bislahalani asked him to move up and down a little. Told him for a left-handed man his right leg was unusually the longer of the two, since that usually went with hand dominance. And he tended to scuff his right foot every three or four steps and walk less _"heel toe"_ than many. All this before Goren had lifted his foot to show him the under side of sneakers and agreed he did tend to wear the soles of his shoes as quick as the heel and the right side sooner.

It was impressive stuff as Goren saw Carver's brows shoot up and ignored Caro's remark how his _"crossed- dominance"_ explained a great deal now. With he and Fred in the lead, with Eames with a stopwatch and Lewis carrying the folder to write down the times, the seven of them set off. Not quite _"The Magnificent Seven"_ Goren told his buddy and if they were, Lewis was _"Harry"_ the one everyone forgot. Which was a shame for… _'Brad Dexter'_ chirped up Carver and Caro in unison.

Suddenly Fred stopped. "You turned slightly here" he said. "Why?"

Goren frowned. "Must be where I heard the vehicle we know now was the minister's SUV"

Eames had clicked the watch off. "I know it's daylight now but that line of trees would have hidden it from you Bobby"

"Uhuh. Heard it more than saw it"

"I take it Johnnie that's the line of the other track? To the ranch house we see the roof of over that brow?" asked Carver.

"Actually that's my place" said the top hand. "See those pine trees? The ranch house is behind them. Just past my place the track forks and one goes that way and the other leads on another hundred and twenty yards or so to the other four cottages. You see how the lie of the land means none of us can see the yard, the road or even the pens from where we live?"

"Doesn't that bother Mr Fraser?" frowned Ron "Theft and so on?"

Belray laughed. "I'm tempted to say _City Slicker_ to you Ron. There's very little plant on a ranch worth stealing, those nags might be cute but out here they ain't worth a lot and do you see any cows?"

"Actually no"

"And you won't though this time of year is your best chance round this part of the place. Takes over thirty acres up here to keep a cow for a year. They spread out. Only reason they are down on the lower ranges now is with winter coming"

"But rustling happens?"

"Sure Alex. You come from some place like Phoenix with a big truck and some dirt bikes. But you do it by cutting a hole in a fence somewhere or using a handy gate miles that away. Only reason we don't get so much here is a large part of our boundary is now on the I-40, up against town or with Charlie Creasy's place they would hit first"

"So why the alarms on that one shed we saw?" asked Caro

"Bulls" muttered Lewis.

"I told you Lewis they were very friendly" said Goren.

"Are now Bobby" said Johnnie. "But get between them and a bunch of in season heifers next spring and it's a whole other thing"

They began to move on towards the pens coming into view over the next rise. Goren walking with Bislahalani and the others slightly straggled out behind. Belray explaining to an oddly fascinated Eames what _"white faces"_ were and about _"Nimitz"_ the single most valuable animal on the place. Being a pure bred _Texas Brangus_, hence the name for the Texan Admiral. A bull he'd hauled back from near El Paso three years ago when he was just proven. Meaning mature enough to produce fertile semen.

Talking to Fred about the number of Native Navajo speakers and their invaluable role as _"Code Talkers"_ in the Second World War, Goren had no idea how Caro knew the _Brangus_ was originally a cross between the _Indian Brahmin_ and the _Scottish Aberdeen Angus_, which explained why they were mostly black. Just hoped in her fascination with the market for stolen bulls or as much for stolen semen, Eames was being careful with that stopwatch.

And perhaps Eames would get unexpected chance to apply her newfound knowledge when she got home? At the rate Goren felt they were going, some time around the same date he and Lewis had planned to return the easier way. On a plane out of LAX.

_**To be continued…**_


	20. Chapter 20

**Saturday 8****th**** October **

_**The Holding Pens (Murder Scene), Mesa Creek Ranch**_

As they approached the area a much more subdued mood came on the whole group. Whatever she was and whatever she did in her life, Whitney Raybold was young woman, barely a legal adult, who had died there and was possibly raped. The area between the old wooden post and rail pens to the thicket of bushes in a slight dip where her body was found was still taped off, as was a stretch to the boundary fence and road maybe fifty yards away.

Goren had never denied being here. He had been told to make at an angle from the gate near _"The Silver Spur"_ until he hit some old wood pens so he had literally walked to them, not skirted around closer to the yard. Approached between them and the thicket rather than cut the other side. where he could still have seen the rough line of the ranch road. Had gone up to take a closer look as he told the local police. When he was co-operating and before he realised they seriously considered him a suspect.

As Eames said, trust him to be _"curious"_ about what might be one of the few original structures on the place where two of it's corner posts were unusual in being quite thick tree stumps. Possibly dead when the rest was lopped and felled either to build the pen or as firewood.

But the result was his prints came right to the area that was subsequently trampled by the cattle and horses next morning as Johnnie and four other hands had rounded up a bunch of these year's calves now weaned and rejected by their mothers. Then right out again, leaving the bloody stone by one of the posts and according to Drummond, having had at very least consensual sex with Whitney somewhere on the ground now showed only hoof prints and one or two boot ones from hands. When they dismounted to investigate what was spooking horses and cattle as they drove them round that thicket to the pen beyond.

"Stupid thing is" he said as Fred climbed up a rail or two to get a better look with Johnnie's help. "I almost didn't come here"

"Why?" frowned Eames

"You'll see later over that way are some newer holding pens. Metal bar ones. Wandering across the range I saw them first. Thought maybe that was the ones I should be making for. Until I got closer or maybe the last sun caught the metal and I realised I must have turned too far east"

"Easy done out here" said Fred as he got down. "No landmarks you would know and fix on to guide you"

"Whole thing is fate Bobby" said Johnnie kindly. "Those pens also have a dipping trench and a crush. We didn't need to be using them that day but ordinarily that is the one we would have headed for. Was only when I got there to check it out that morning with Randy, we realised one of the gate hinges was bust. Some idiot not reported it or left it swinging all summer. So we rode over here. Checked this was still sound and whistled the drive this way"

"Otherwise she might not have been found yet?" asked Carver

The top hand shook his head grimly. "Buzzards would have been spotted and we usually check them out. Can be injured stock worth saving they are waiting on to die. Most often we just have to shoot them by then. That or a lot of coyote activity. But you are right. Had Lewis been able to fix that pump Monday night and we used the other pens chances were it might have been the middle of the week before someone spotted anything"

"She was wearing sneakers" said Fred over by the other line of tape heading to the road.

"Yes" said Ron "That's what the report says. The high heels she was wearing at the bar were in her truck"

"Do we know if she usually drove in those?" asked Caro and then shrugged as people turned.

"I'll drive in anything but some women keep shoes in the car just for that"

"I see where you are going I think" said Eames. "If she usually drove in heels, did she put the sneakers on to cross the ground easier? I mean by choice. If she was forced from the truck she'd still have those on"

"Worth checking" said Ron as Eames made a note. "If we had the damned print report it would help"

"Why?" asked Johnnie with a frown.

"Apart from telling us if she used the keypad of my phone it would also tell us if she touched that gate down there and how"

"They printed all of us" he said. "And…what is it you say Alex…dusted…all the gate. The crime lab people"

"They would. Again if she came here willing or even unwillingly you'd expect her prints on the slide bar or maybe the rails if she climbed over. And they would have looked for unexpected prints. Which might indicate a stranger to the place"

"See now I'm learning" he smiled.

Goren paced the side of the pens had the gate and wasn't taped. "Do you know if they checked in here Johnnie?"

"Not that I saw but then there were forty seven goaty head in there at the time. We went on penning them to stop them running all over…um…even trampling the body and of course after that we couldn't let them out until late Tuesday afternoon time they were done. But I wasn't here the whole time"

Goren opened the gate and walked in since strictly speaking that wasn't deemed crime scene.

"Bobby?" frowned Eames

"Just wondering" he said as he walked and most of the rest followed him. "I never came in here but because of what happened we have no idea if Whitney and the killer did"

"Why would they?" asked Caro.

"Dunno" he shrugged "But if they had possible hair or something might have got caught in this rough timber. If there was a struggle"

He picked up a few strands.

"That's steer" said Belray.

"I know. Just making the point. Same as there is what looks like a red fibre over here on the big post"

"Whitney wasn't wearing red that night Bobby" said Ron.

"Of anyone I know that" he said slightly testily. "Neither was I. I'm just making the point because they were so sure I did this they never looked further or did the job properly"

"Bobby's right" said Eames who of anyone could sense when Goren was getting mad. "I know we don't usually have to worry about goaty cattle but we would have had this checked inside"

"Should we bag this Rob?" said Caro. "Looks almost like embroidery thread"

"No" said Carver sharply. "If it is evidence relating to this murder we don't want to overstep our authority. Get accused of the sort of thing got Newcombe into trouble. Even with two witnesses we didn't plant it"

"But what if it blows away?" asked Caro.

"It won't" said Goren. "Make our way to that gate shall we?"

He reached out for her hand and took it. Eames smiled inwardly. That was the kind of re-assurance he needed right then she couldn't give her partner. Nice to see too because he was usually very restrained in how much physical affection he showed anyone. That neck with Caro outside the court really was the exception to the rule.

When they got there, a combination of he and Johnnie held the wire for Bislahalani to get through along with Eames and then climbed over, leaving the others the far side. The police or crime lab had only taped the section of the U shaped pull off where Whitney's truck must have sat and the nearby gate.

"Is this a park up spot?" asked Eames.

"Can be" said Johnnie "Know why your asking Alex"

With the toe of his boot he flicked from the grass a condom and they had both seen another one or two and wrappers.

"Would fit wouldn't it Bobby?" she said at his shoulder softly. "Sonny coming here to watch? Maybe had before? Whether she knew it or not?"

"Yes" he nodded. "Bislahalani? I know this might be hard to say but do you…can you still see any signs of a struggle here? Like two people fighting"

"No" said the old man who had moved along the side of the fence "But someone, a man came along here. Not you. A smaller man. Not wearing boots. Shoes or sneakers. That night or maybe the next one. Went through the fence or came through it back this way"

"How do you know?" asked Lewis who with Ron and Caro had gone around the thicket to reach the boundary.

"Same as your friend see…no don't step close Lewis…thread no it's hair in the wire…fair hair. Human not cow or horse"

They gathered behind him and Eames handed Goren a magnifier. Carver and Lewis exchanged looks the far side of the fence. Sonny Harkness was fair.

"There's root on some of this" he said.

He reached in his pants pocket for some gloves and evidence bag.

"Goren" said Carver in a slow low warning tone.

"To hell with it Ron" he snapped. "DNA degrades. You know that. I'll leave some and you can report it to Drummond soon as you damn well like"

There was an awkward silence as he carefully removed two strands with root material and bagged them.

"What else do you see sir?" he asked the old Navajo who was some kind of tribal elder.

"I think this man tried to cover his tracks. As he came this way. See near that red rock? Like sweeping patterns in the dirt?" he turned and said something to his great nephew in Navajo.

"Uncle didn't know the word for juniper" Johnnie explained walking round the edge of the pull in. "That's what some of that thicket is. Would make an ideal brush for the tracks of a small, light man"

Eames grinned at Goren as they could both see how Fred Belray's mind had worked. Someone cut juniper at the thicket and then covered his tracks as he headed back to the fence. It was the sort of thing you almost learned in Boy Scouts or sometimes saw in western movies. Bad guys trailing brush to remove the tracks of their mounts. They stood together as he and Johnnie walked around a little.

"Fairly fresh cut juniper switch over here" the younger man called. "And it cannot have come from these little trees and bushes. No juniper I can see"

Then from under his jacket Fred suddenly produced a knife looked as big as a sword. Made the switchblade Goren usually carried, technically illegally in New York, look like a fruit knife. That was left along most of his other personal things, apart from books, with Caro fearing _"misunderstanding"_ about it out of his own jurisdiction on the trip.

The two city detectives watched as the old man cut a twig, twisted and bent it and had Johnnie shove it into the dirt pegging the switch down.

"That won't blow away in any wind" Bislahalani said turning with a broad smile and returning the huge knife to a scabbard at his side. "Old Indian trick from an old Indian"

_**To be continued…**_


	21. Chapter 21

**Saturday 9****th**** October**

_**Rear Of "The Silver Spur"**_

There were only five of them as they approached the end of their reverse track of Goren's route on Monday night. Johnnie had offered to fix them all lunch as an alternative to living on diner fare. Provided they didn't expect meat and they all had to smile at the idea of a top hand on a beef ranch that hadn't touched the product for fifteen years. No red meat and no white though he did eat fish and eggs and was something happened under the influence of his ex-wife.

So he aimed to go make a start on that, but to get them all back would give Ron his truck since six in the Taurus would be impossible and illegal. So technically speaking was driving on a public road with people in the flat bed, but it was a law rarely enforced on minor roads in cattle country. It also meant Carver might have chance to follow up the issue of Whitney's normal footwear.

It might seem a trivial detail when they seemed to be building evidence against Sonny Harkness. But that was the way Goren, Eames and Carver were used to working together. Watching the two of them heading to the yard while they organised themselves for what should be a fairly straightforward march across country, the two of them stood a moment together. For one thing Lewis had ducked behind a bush to take a leak.

"You know I think in a strange way he's rather enjoying this Goren"

"Me too" he shrugged. "I think he misses some aspects of the DA's job more than he says. And we did work a few good ones with Carver didn't we?"

Eames laughed. "We did though I never imagined seeing _Mr Urbane and Smooth_ in his element in a place like this. Tracking down a cashmere sweater in _Bloomingdale's_ is more his style"

"_Ralph Lauren _please" said Goren with a lofty tone. "Or maybe _Saks_"

"Careful Bobby" said Eames. "I've seen some of the labels in your clothes"

"I just go to those stores and cut them out. And then go home and stitch them into _Wal-Mart_" he said heading to where Caro was talking to Fred about the _Ghost Dance _and Native traditional music.

If people thought his musical tastes were eclectic, hers were verging on _"weird"._ You might turn up at Caroline's place to hear anything from Verdi through to African contemporary and they had once made out to Willie Nelson in the background. It might not be advisable for mothers to allow their off spring to grow up to be cowboys, but it was damn hard to concentrate and give of your best when a woman is saying very breathlessly and with a grin _"forget horses and cowboys give me a cop every time"._ Even if it was meant to be complimentary.

Eames watched the two men retreating to the yard as Goren called to Lewis he should really get that prostate fixed or they would be here until sundown. People who didn't know him that well rarely saw how funny Bobby could be when the mood was on him. Just she worried a little how his mood was switching so fast right now. From the quiet introspection at times, when she wondered if he was still more deeply concerned by all this despite developments, to that snappy irritation bordering on real anger a while back.

_On the other hand, maybe she was worrying about Goren rather than herself?_ That part of her had almost suggested she go help Johnnie with the lunch and abandon the job she was supposed to be doing. Eames didn't doubt in one respect Caro could do what was required from here on, but she was supposed to be the professional in this situation.

Danny Ross had near enough sent her to help Goren out. Not to be ogling a cowboys butt and responding to the occasional flirtation from Johnnie she knew was not imagination. She handed Lewis back Goren's folder to carry where they had been noting times, remembered though things were difficult right now, she had a nice FDNY investigator at home in New York and clicked the stopwatch again.

It was a near enough a non-stop walk at _"Goren medium pace"._ When Fred pointed it out, you could see where he'd subtly changed directions away from the more distant pens Johnnie had spoken of. And they did pause briefly when the old man seemed momentarily to lose the track and circle round. Asking Bobby if he stopped to take a pee, which he thought about for a second and agreed he did.

They hit the gate that Goren had climbed Monday night for reasons were obvious. When he really had to work at wrestling that open for Bislahalani to get through. It was rarely used, if ever these days, as Johnnie had warned them and it was only when they got to it Eames realised perhaps why Goren asked about that other one.

How often that was used. Much the same, had been the top hand's reply, explaining that the modern cattle trucks were so large they could barely turn in that U never mind back up to run beef destined for slaughter into them very easily. So they tended to load large numbers from other points or even via the yard.

When you heard how Goren had to rattle that gate as Eames stopped the watch and how it screeched as it swung back a little way, you suddenly saw why if he crept up to peek on Whitney why Sonny Harkness might not have attempted to open the other. Even the rattle of climbing it, which Lewis did, was loud.

If the gate they could not test without crossing the crime tape made that noise and Sonny knew that, he would also know he risked alerting Whitney and anyone she was with. It explained why he'd go through the fence and creep up over fairly bare ground grazed down by the part of the herd on that range.

They'd seen only the face or rear end of maybe two of them the whole morning and would have missed one of those but for Fred pointing out something in the brush had old _"Longhorn"_ style markings. Once through the gate they walked across a mixture of tarmac, gravel and dirt formed the rear yards of maybe six premises faced onto Main Street before they reached the rear lot where Ron Carver was waiting. With the news he'd spoken to the redoubtable Kate inside.

"It would seem Miss Raybold almost always drove in high heels" he said. "A few months back she ran her then truck into a lamp post on Kendall Street where she lived. Thanks to catching one in the floor mat"

"Which tells us not a lot" said Caro.

"Maybe or maybe not" said Goren to tease her as he let down the Dodge's tailgate.

Fred insisted _"the ladies"_ go inside with Ron though either one of them might have driven with him up front. But helping him up into the flatbed Goren and the rest of them knew, it was a very old man wanting to prove he was still pretty spry.

_And the reason Fred didn't drive them?_ His licence was currently suspended after numerous speeding offences in his old Caddy, including doing 110 mph on the freeway. Which meant he had to come down from the Res with Running Elk today. Who at seventy was a mere boy and drove like an old lady on her way to church.

Little wonder he and Lewis made firmer friends on the way back.

_**To be continued…**_


	22. Chapter 22

**Saturday 9****th**** October**

_**Four Winds Cottage, Mesa Creek Ranch**_

Eames had no idea what she expected Johnnie's place to be like was apparently one of the three different owner's homes had stood at various times. Accounted for the size at six or maybe seven rooms, as he explained when they arrived and he pointed out the bathroom facilities for those in need of them. And how he got lucky with the current ramrod living off site to be offered this place.

By then she had gathered the _"ramrod"_ was more of a ranch manager and administrator these days whilst it was the _"top hand",_ who day to day oversaw the practical work and the other men. But going from the cosy sitting room through to the larger living/kitchen area to see if she could help with anything, it put her in mind of someone else's home. _Goren's. _Though very different in style, that also seemed to have books packed into every available space. And on topics as wide ranging.

Foolish of her to forget that Johnnie might have been destined for a successful academic career as a college professor until his life went so badly wrong. Something he spoke of openly as she and Fred helped with some vegetable preparation at the kitchen table. Found herself not just listening to him about his remaining son, now almost ten whose picture was on the side, but speaking of her own family. And how her sister came to have a son thanks to her acting as surrogate.

Eames was rather used to the admiring and sometimes slightly wondrous praise came with that news and Belray Jnr was no different. She also knew that inside, there was a part of her had never really spoken of or come to terms with some of her motivations for doing that. Issues during the counselling sessions she went to, the psychologist had raised. Uncomfortable things she denied though Eames knew they were true.

It was as they were setting the table to eat at it, Eames realised that Caroline had at some point left the room. Perhaps to check up on Ron and Goren who were in the dining room with papers spread all over. For the first time since Eames got to Arizona her partner had taken back his folder. To work on a _"time line"_ with Carver based on their calculations of the walk today and trying to link it in with other statements to see if they could pick holes in the conclusion the police had made. That he _"must"_ have been in the area of the pens the same time they had worked out Whitney must have got there.

It was the first time too since she arrived, Eames had been sure Goren fully had his _"working head"_ back on. The one he felt he needed six months away from to be here at all. Could be it was reluctance before or a bit of rustiness, but as the day had gone on she had seen that more and more. Though it did cross her mind to wonder if Caro had been uncomfortable with all the _"baby/kiddy talk"_ for a while. For reasons Eames was not sure of.

She knew, from the couple of times they'd met up since Goren left New York, Caro had never been married. Had a broken engagement in her late twenties Eames suspected she downplayed the effect of on her. Also knew she had six assorted nephews and nieces via her three younger siblings. But she had never said either that she never wanted kids or knew there was a reason she could not have them.

Often women didn't say so because they couldn't handle the sympathy in the case of the latter or sometimes, the hostility, in the case of the former. But though they had exchanged a few wine fuelled giggles about _"men" _and _"life",_ Eames never felt she got a clue where Caro expected or wanted this now close to eight month long relationship with her partner to go. And perhaps some kind of baby issue was an uncomfortable factor in that for Caroline and Bobby.

Any time to mull on that one was soon lost as they all gathered round and when Lewis got hauled in from the garden. With his almost vegetarian diet it still came as a slight surprise to Eames walking the last leg of Goren's trail, when Lewis had told her Johnnie grew a lot of his own food, including varieties in a couple of greenhouses. Things not so easy to get away from more cosmopolitan and international locations and where demand for them would be minimal. That's where cities like New York spoiled you for the availability of ingredients from world cuisine. And Johnnie had explained about that when they arrived to a much-needed coffee and he showed them briefly round the plot and the two glasshouses he constructed.

How he was not into anything like that until he became, for a couple of years, an alcoholic. Horticulture made him, to a degree self-sufficient, but was also a form of therapy during his treatment. One he'd undertaken not by some of the conventional means but up on the Nation which had a specific Native American approach and sadly, some considerable experience in doing it. A topic no surprise interested Caro Reese and she and Johnnie returned to it at the table. As bowls of delicious food were going around and Goren seemed to be learning some Navajo from Bislahalani.

It was easy for a while to forget what brought such a mixed bunch of people from very different cultures and beliefs and backgrounds together. It was Johnnie who had joked earlier about that and Eames just wished something else. That she had not started to feel _"neglected"_ during the time he and Caro were mostly speaking and so pleased when Johnnie's attention and that white smile focussed back on her a little more. But eventually, after some fruit and ice cream she helped serve from the large freezer, they turned back to the subject.

Fred had gone out on the front porch to smoke his pipe saying his job was done. Even without the timeline to hand, Eames might have known between them Carver and Goren would have it almost absorbed to the last second and who had said what in their statements.

"That has to be good news" said Johnnie as he got up to pour the coffee.

"Not necessarily" shrugged Ron. "Playing devil's advocate, if not Bobby's one for a moment, the fact we think he was a good five minutes past those pens before Whitney got to the pull off is not water tight"

"But you can be pretty sure Uncle kept you on about the right pace. He can tell from things like your stride length how fast you were going Bobby"

"I'm sure he did" said Goren. "But nothing can tell me the three minutes maximum I think I was around the pens is right. Fairly critical in a five minute window. Or thanks to a busted clock in the VW that it was half an hour I was on my own back there. That's just based on what I knew I did and roughly how long it would have taken me to almost have dinner ready before Lewis got back"

"I added a new clock to the parts we must track down Bob. I'd like to get an original one if we can but…" he trailed off. "Sorry. Just wear your watch why don't you"

"Then add to that" Eames said slightly gloomily "We are just assuming Whitney drove straight from the bar when her shift ended. Fact no-one came forward to say she stopped to speak to them or called in a store doesn't mean it didn't happen. Though if it did it would be good because it would put Goren further away"

"Maybe someone will now come forward?" suggested Lewis. "We know other people now admit they exaggerated"

"Or maybe they won't?" said Caro. "To help you on the devil's side Ron? With Newcombe sacked and word going round about the foul ups there might actually be disincentive. People not wanting to admit they helped build a case either by what they did or did not do in coming forward. Aim to disassociate their name from anything to do with it"

"You're right" said Ron. "We've all seen it happen when things get smelly. But there is one thing I keep coming back to. We know Bobby didn't fix to met her there but would Whitney really chase across town and then over part of a range just to make a second attempt at seducing him?"

"I wouldn't" snorted Eames and then grinned. "But then…and all respect to you Caro…he's never been my type"

"Nor you mine partner" growled Goren from the other end of the table.

"Neither would I and he is" Caro smiled

"From what I know of Whitney" said Johnnie. "I could almost believe anything"

"Don't forget what Janey said as well" said Eames.

"What was that or shouldn't I ask?"

Goren, Eames and Carver exchanged glances before replying to Johnnie Belray. It was instinctive when you worked in a job where you kept your mouth shut a lot of the time and it was different from Lewis and Caro. He was in it if not to his neck, to his waist and she was the nearest thing Goren had to a wife you would expect to share with or who would expect it herself.

"Some things we found out she did might point to a particular person" began Carver slightly vaguely.

But nothing else had chance to come out of his mouth before Fred called in from the porch.

"I see a _Land Cruiser_ just coming over the rise. Do we run for the hills or make our last stand here people?"

_**To be continued…**_


	23. Chapter 23

**Saturday 9****th**** October**

_**Four Winds Cottage, Mesa Creek Ranch**_

You would have to be a fool to have expected Sheriff Art Drummond to look happy as he got out of the SUV, opened the gate in the picket fence and came up the path carrying a large brown envelope. To Carver who had mostly seen him sitting behind his desk in that office which was a tribute to taxidermy, he seemed leaner than ever against the backdrop of the big four-wheel drive.

He had gone out to meet him with Johnnie not expecting trouble and more probably, good news. But very much the lawyer it came automatically to put _"an obstacle"_ between a cop hadn't exactly covered himself or his small force in glory and his, innocent client. Goren might well be able to take care of himself, but that was Carver's job for the duration.

When the moustachioed Sheriff gave it one of his subconscious wipes with his hand and spoke, the former DA knew it was good news. The way the words he used had changed. Drummond _"asked"_ to speak with them and any sense he would _"demand"_ or _"expect"_ that was gone. And Goren was no longer _"your client",_ which was almost the same as saying _"the suspect"._ Nor _"Bobby"_ the sort of first name _"friendly"_ all cops tried to establish with those who would let them. Now he was _"Mr Goren"_ and Ron wondered privately if the thought of using the title _"Detective"_ was one step too far for Art Drummond. Even if it was a courtesy, out here and off duty, Bobby was not entitled to.

But Sheriff Drummond did have one surprise up his sleeve as the three of them stepped into the sitting room Belray had offered for the meeting.

When he suddenly said "_Please invite Ms Potter too if y'all want or maybe I should say NYPD Major Case, Detective Eames"._

As she hurried across the hall and they sat down, Drummond revealed with some humour in the circumstances, how he now knew.

"Afore driving out here I got another call from your boss. Danny Ross. Darn man has been dogging me once a day. And his trail boss, the big high poobar, or whatever he's called"

"Chief of Detectives" said Eames automatically and with a look at her partner.

She had called Ross each evening and knew he spoke with Goren once he was out of custody, but he'd never hinted behind the scenes they were giving Drummond grief. To her and she hoped to Goren, who had occasional trouble with both of them, she hoped it was another sign and one he could accept. That he really was valued by more than just her, Mike and the others.

"Anyways, since I was able to give Captain Ross some good news he shared with me the fast one you city folk thought you could pull…or should I say succeeded in pulling"

"A small deceit we thought would assist our enquiries" said Carver steepling his fingers and sitting back in the armchair one side of the stone fireplace.

Realising the ball was back in his court Drummond made a pretty good job of eating a lot of raw crow, the bones of which must have stuck in his own craw, as he made a brief but fulsome apology. To _"Mr Goren"_ and confirmed he was no longer a suspect, that papers were waiting to be filed to that effect and driven over to Judge Thomas this afternoon. He even apologised for the fact he'd been struck and evidence against him manufactured. And for not dealing with the first sooner, but hoping as a fellow officer he understood why, even if his experience was a bit different in a big city set–up.

Eames had to admit her partner was more than gracious for a man who had been put through what he had for three days. Saying faced with the same evidence he would have probably drawn the same conclusions and leading small groups of people there were times you had to hold together for solidarity. And deal with your dirty laundry in private later, in reference to the assault. She only wished she could remember or could have chosen the words Goren used at the end to in effect say he thought they were a bunch of _"incompetents",_ without that word being said.

Carver, as much for their own benefit as any guarantee it was over, did ask Drummond to share _"for the informal record and Mr Goren's benefit, the results you have from the laboratories and anything else has led you to this new conclusion"._ As they expected the blood on Bobby's jeans had come back as his, along with no trace of blood or anything on the clothes he'd been wearing Monday night that might have come from Whitney. How they got so soiled wasn't really explained and they later agreed Drummond would probably never be sure. Whether they were deliberately _"dirtied"_ by Newcombe or as he hinted _"mishandled by inexperienced officers"._

As to Mr Goren's cell phone, that had shown Whitney's prints on the sides proving she touched it and thanks to two witnesses, who came forward with _"new or revised information" _Drummond could actually explain and confirm Goren's own suspicion. One said he thought he saw her _"poking at something"_ on the second pool table when Bobby was speaking with Nate Daniels at the bar. Which would be consistent with her fingerprints not being on the small pads but using what were her quite long nails to put her number onto it.

Drummond didn't say who it was, but two witnesses had also revised their statements about the way both were behaving in the bar Monday night. Which now made them more consistent with others of those going in and out. Eames and Carver glanced at each other knowing one was almost certainly Zeke Payne they had spoken with and one of the other employees of Charlie Creasy, they had yet to track down to have a similar conversation.

Art Drummond also told them something else proved he'd made an effort. He'd gone to _"The Silver Spur",_ at last you might say, and seen the register roll Katey dug out. Which proved only two small bottles of beer were sold in the time everyone agrees Mr Goren was there. It partly supported his claim to what he drank, which her husband Ronny had been more vague about, when a casual enquiry had been made with him. Even if that was not the word Art used to describe whoever did that.

It made little difference to the substantive case but Whitney's blood alcohol was over the limit to drive a car. And after consultation with the Flagstaff labs again and one the State Police used in Phoenix, they were now backing off saying _"pubic"_ so firmly about the hair and had done _"more detailed comparison with Whitney's"._

Eames had to smile a little how Drummond was obviously coy to use words like _"length and consistency"_ in reference to pubic hair. Probably because she was present and he wasn't used to bandying about that sort of thing in front of _"womenfolk"_ of any sort. They also had, thanks to them, alternative explanation for that as Mr Carver had so eloquently set out in his papers handed to Tim Bayard, the DA. Where Eames knew Ron had quoted case law and example on both identification of hair and accidental transfer.

Though Carver wasn't done being the lawyer yet as he thanked the guy.

"It's now not our concern Sheriff Drummond…except as concerned citizens…but you'll understand why the three of us, more than others, might be…um…curious how this leaves your enquiries into this dreadful event in your town"

Goren and Eames both hid a smile when he replied "Why? Y'all offering to solve it for me?"

"Wouldn't be so rude Art" said Goren, which the other two knew meant quite the opposite.

"You mean y'all gonna deny the fact y'all wondering if Janey Yelland has been round to speak with me"

"Touché" said Ron with a flutter of those elegant fingers.

"Hmm" said Art Drummond no doubt suspicious of _"dudes"_ used fancy French words even if he did understand them.

"I guess we are on the same track then Sheriff" said Eames.

"Guess we are and that y'all also know that Sonny Harkness has previous. Where I would have looked first in the run of things" he did smile then. "Until chance came to pin it on some stranger to these parts"

Goren smiled at that.

"Tell me Bobby" said the older man with a brush of his white walrus lip furniture. "Does y'all boss let you walk round with hair like that? Cause y'all would never work for me looking like you do"

"I'm on leave sir. And I won't deny Lewis and I probably don't look models of respectability"

"Not with that piece of Teutonic crap for sure. Speaking of that, since it's registered to him, Mr Lewis will have to come sign for it" he paused. "My boys didn't wreck it Mr Goren but it ain't exactly better now. But maybe to make good they'll give you a hand and of course at the public expense, do some fixing up for you. We've got skilled local men…and ladies will do you new covers for that pull out bed thing"

"I'll speak with Lewis. See how he feels" Goren shrugged. "May just want to head out soon as it moves"

"In which case we'll need to discuss compensation to get it fixed some other place" he glanced at Carver.

"I'm happy for you to settle that with Detective Goren, Sheriff. If he wishes and he's not exactly an innocent abroad in such matters"

"Fine"

"I tell you what would be nice Art" Goren said quietly.

"If we could find some of that old fashioned lavender polish like my Mom used to use. Would bring things up _real nice_ as folk round here would say"

_**To be continued…**_


	24. Chapter 24

**Saturday 9****th**** October**

**_The Yard, Bethlehem Police Department_**

"Aaagh!" yelped Eames.

"Pheew" said Goren who usually had a fairly strong stomach for nasty odours. "I can smell it from here"

"Imagine them letting food just sit in this cold box since Wednesday" she muttered. "I know it's not mid summer but it was bound to go off. Dirty pigs! That's men for you"

"There should be some big trash bags in there Alex? Near the sink or they were. And the Bethlehem boys do keep a nice clean jail"

"Found them" she called from inside the VW. "Hold this open Bobby. I'll just have to throw the lot out. Should have brought gloves. And I'm not sure how you can joke about such stuff"

"Because it's done and it's true. Wow that cream's gone like yoghurt"

"You're welcome to try it" grimaced his partner tossing it in the sack. "Why do you have cream anyway?"

"Because…careful Alex…Lewis has to have it in his first coffee of the morning or he's grouchy all day"

Eames stopped with some fairly rancid bacon in her hand and laughed.

"What?"

"I was just thinking with your little habits and his, it must be like _The Odd Couple_ in here at times. With Lewis as Walter Matthau and you running round behind him like Jack Lemon with a cloth" she giggled. "Not that there's a lot of room to run in here"

"That is true" Goren conceded as the bacon hit the cream.

"For someone once told me he's not always great in confined spaces I don't know how you stand it"

"Neither do I" her partner shrugged. "Tensions do rise occasionally. And stop laughing will you?"

"I'm sorry Bobby" Eames tossed in the last of the rotten food. "It's just knowing in theory and seeing makes a lot of difference. And at your ages? It's not the same as when you and Lewis first thought to do this is it?"

"Guess not. I'll take this to the dumpster"

"And then you can tell me what else you said to Art Drummond when you decided to make another trip in his _Land Cruiser_ to this place. Only this time wearing more than your shorts and handcuffs"

"And sitting in the front not the back" Goren called over his shoulder.

"That too"

Eames rather doubted Goren's anxiety was totally as he made out to everyone at the cottage, to get the papers signed and his things back as quickly as possible. It wasn't something he told Ron he needed him for and she suspected her partner had used the trip to drop a few more facts in Drummond's ear. Might even have got him to stop at the Mesa Creek fence to collect the rest of that hair sample. But she also understood why he might have done it that way.

No one more than Bobby hated not to solve a puzzle. Even in the middle of all this, when she said something about a possible led on the Kersey case; his professional ears had pricked up. He hadn't killed Whitney but he would _"feel"_ a concern for justice in a way the rest of them did not. Goren wasn't always the most socially adept person at times when it came to his job. Could get so focussed he seemed rude and he'd driven more than one CSU technician or ME at a crime scene slightly crazy. His _"thoroughness"_ and questions did occasionally come over as _"interference"_ or even _"pushiness"_ out of his field because Goren didn't always go about them the best way. Smooth feathers before or after he ruffled them or seem to understand why they were or might be, ruffled at all.

It could just be he wanted, for once, to be a bit more tactful. Be alone with Art Drummond to tell him what they knew, found or suspected. Not to be doing it around the _"civilians"_ who were at Johnnie's cottage at the time or at the station when Drummond's subordinates were about. Save the man's face a little and if Sonny Harkness really was involved or had explaining to do, give him better chance to take the credit in the end.

So he had left in something of a hurry after thanking Fred Belray and Johnnie, even though he would probably see the latter again that evening. Some discussion was being had about taking the chance to celebrate at a place the top hand thought they might enjoy. What he said to Caro when Goren took her aside Eames had no idea, before he hurried off down the path and into the waiting Toyota.

They had dropped her at the motel and she had gone off to Flagstaff in the red SUV. But then apart from any personal needs he might have, that was a different kind of relationship and situation. Knowing Goren he was as likely to have asked her to go get him some new socks, as have her come back with a gourmet picnic hamper. With the intention of locking their door for three whole days before they came out. Though if that were the aim, Eames wouldn't choose _"The Desert Inn"_ for that.

She, Carver and Lewis had followed on in the Taurus a little while later. Though Ron, between using the offered facilities of the station to try to fix a flight home tomorrow, had to run another errand. When Goren and Lewis opened up the VW it was to discover the old seized water pump had been put inside, not the old but still working one they picked up on the Res. So he offered to return to Mesa Creek to fetch it back for his strange new buddy in Lewis. Who was quickly in his element in the rear engine compartment with Deputy Hogan it seemed was a pretty good mechanic and in overalls Eames had picked out from inside with two fingers. They were that dirty.

Her only disappointment was she wasn't dressed to be helping him herself and Goren wanted his own would have covered her twice over in terms of fit. But she was able to do something to help in trying to sort out the interior whose fittings had not fared very well during the search of it. Possibly a slightly vindictive one at the time and both she and Bobby had seen places trashed unnecessarily by members of their own profession when something was _"personal"._ The best example was how the seat covers in the living compartment had been cut off when there were zips to remove them.

When Goren had gone off with his former jailer, both Eames and Carver were certain that comment he made about _"lavender polish_" meant something to Drummond. Because the first words out of his mouth were _"We used to use…"_ before he stopped himself. How far his enquiries after that took him it was hard to say because they had not seen him since.

And Ron, returning with the water pump, reported seeing a cruiser parked up in the pull off area. Though who and what he couldn't say and his priority that moment was trying to get on a plane from Flagstaff to Phoenix. To make a connecting flight would get him home to New York earlier to have time with family tomorrow.

Eames had made the decision to stay until Monday or maybe Tuesday, when Caro had initially indicated she would return. Goren didn't need his hand holding for what would be a simple appearance in court. Almost certainly to receive apologies and so there was a more public record locally he was innocent and free. But that left the option of going with him if he wanted.

He was her partner, you did that sort of thing and Eames also wanted to know the VW was on the road and ready for this mad adventure to continue. Quitting it hadn't come out of Bobby's mouth or Lewis' and if she was sort of _"mothering"_ the pair of them, so what? All guys needed a little of that now and then.

If she was honest too, Eames wanted chance to let her hair down tonight, not to have to get up too early for a flight and circumstances permitting, take Johnnie up on his offer to show her round tomorrow. The five days Ross gave her was not up until Wednesday when she had to report back, Eames had never seen this part of the world and it was too good a chance to miss. Even if it had started out a bad reason to be here.

If Dave didn't like it that she didn't come home first reasonable chance, it was too damn bad. The Grand Canyon one of the seven natural wonders of the world was a hundred miles away and a lot more appealing than the _"urban canyons" _of New York. Eames was still trying to convince herself it was all to do with landscape and nothing to do with Johnnie Belray at all as Goren returned from the dumpster.

Little did either of them know inside two hours there would be a second violent death in Bethlehem County.

_**To be continued…**_


	25. Chapter 25

**Saturday 9****th**** October**

**_The Desert Inn Motel_**

When they left the VW in the yard at the Police Station they had achieved the ambition of getting it started and the new water pump installed. To the delight of Lewis who had used a colourful range of vocabulary at times and gained a lot of grease and dirt over every part of himself not covered by his overalls. He would have brought his German _"baby"_ back with them until Goren made it clear neither he, nor the rest of them needed him tinkering outside their windows half the night and as soon as dawn broke, thank you.

It was highly unlikely to be something Mrs Harkness would appreciate in her parking lot either and Eames was sure her potential wrath bothered Lewis more than Bobby's or her own. So he was in his room scrubbing off the result of his efforts and Ron making a start on his packing to leave next day. The door of his room, number four, was open and Eames and Goren stood or sat in easy idleness on the nearby breezeway step drinking soda and enjoying the start of sunset.

There was no sign of mother or son you had to assume were in their quarters since her car and the old Chevy pick up he drove were in the central parking area. In the circumstances they were not discussing the murder, though Eames sensed Goren was in a suddenly quiet or reflective mood. Didn't seem very enthusiastic about going to _"The Saguaro"_ later. That was the roadhouse not far away where Johnnie had promised them decent food and chance to sample a fun _"western style"_ evening.

To her surprise, Ron was very keen to risk a little _Square_ and _Line Dancing_, Lewis was looking forward to a few beers and looking at him, Eames wondered if Goren was just beat. Couldn't have slept well in that jail and it was all, to use one of her Mom's phrases _"suddenly catching up to him"_ in terms of mental exhaustion. Nor did she totally dismiss the idea his notion of fun tonight might only require two people, where actions like _"swing your partner to your left"_ and _"hold those hips and turn around"_ would have a very different meaning.

Lewis could be heard doing a bad _Bon Jovi_ impression must drive Goren crazy if he did that too often in the cramped camper and Eames had gone to fetch a law book of Carver's was in her room, when Caro returned in the SUV. Goren had set aside his soda to help her with a couple of bags and that was when Sheriff Drummond's _Land Cruiser_ pulled into the lot.

He had Jay Weaver and Jack Madison with him and he left the latter by the vehicle as they walked to the door to the private quarters. Nothing was said to them and the four of them exchanged looks. Eames would admit in her case, she was torn between wanting to remain where she was on the breezeway to see what happened and feeling she ought to go inside and mind her own business. Carver at his door probably felt the same and for a second, Goren and Caro were slightly frozen between the SUV and their room further along.

They were all agreed later that Ma Harkness let the two men inside willingly. Although with her voice had a foghorn quality, they could not avoid hearing from the tone and a few words they did pick up, she was not best pleased. As the door shut behind Weaver, it was hard to say whether she was railing more on them for disturbing and bothering her or on Sonny for any _"trouble you brung back here again you moron"._

But whatever was said, chaos seemed to break out in no time with shouting inside and then a loud bang did almost sound like a gun. Eames instinctively shoved Ron right into his room and she saw as she followed him in, Goren almost drag Caro to theirs. Lewis stepped out on the breezeway in a towel to ask what was happening and both of them yelled to him to get back inside.

More or less the same time as Art Drummond came out the front of the residence, dragging his gun from his side and bawling to Madison _"to get down to the pool"_ as the fool was running for it. _"Pool"_ was something of a misnomer for a small, broken tiled, empty structure at the far end of the run of rooms, which seemed to be used more as a place to burn trash.

Madison drew his gun and made across the lot while Art ducked round the other way in case Sonny emerged on the far side of the building. To varying degrees they all heard what went on at the back of the motel outside the bathroom windows. Running footsteps of two men. Sonny Harkness close to screaming, _"I didn't kill"_ her and Jay Weaver yelling to him to stop, calm down and words to that effect.

Goren and Caro heard a sort of cry and someone fall behind their room and he if not she, knew for sure that was Weaver tripping over something because it was the second pair of feet that briefly stopped. But with the empty lot next door fenced off Sonny would have faced a choice when he got to the end of building at Room 12. Either try to scale that or run towards the road, which was what he did.

From the window in Ron's room where they could not help themselves but go to watch, Eames saw him head to almost the centre of the lot and stop. Then Bobby's voice suddenly yelled _"gun"_ which none of them had heard until that moment from the local cops to tell each other their quarry was armed. Madison who had not quite reached his goal, apparently and sensibly took cover behind one of the breezeway posts. When he saw Sonny Harkness raise the gun in the direction of Art Drummond, who had come back around and was behind the front of the Toyota.

His automatic was out and pointing at Sonny who was armed with what looked like a large revolver. He was yelling at the hysterical Ma Harkness to get inside, same time as telling Sonny to _"calm down son"_. To put the gun down on the ground. To go about it easy and then they could talk it through nice and calm over a cup of coffee.

To Eames and Goren the Sheriff was doing just the right thing and so were his two deputies. Madison was staying quiet and though she could not see him, Goren could see Weaver who had his gun levelled under the cover of the corner of the building. For what seemed forever, but were probably only thirty seconds tops, Drummond tried to talk him down.

Not helped by Ma Harkness who was bawling fairly foul-mouthed insults at her son and using words like _"freak"_ and _"pervert"._ The Sheriff was in a no win scenario. Trying to talk down and calm down a babbling Sonny while his own mother was just winding him up further. He was repeating over and over _"Billy done her. I never touched her. Billy done it. I never killed her"_ and didn't appear to be hearing or mentally registering what Drummond was saying.

Then he took a couple of steps forward and almost the inevitable by then happened. He fired the gun. Not at Drummond, assuming he was actually aiming, but in the direction of his mother who finally shut up and backed up towards the door. He got off two before three shots rang out from Art's _Glock._ Shot as the training taught you and it wasn't like Drummond wasn't a good marksmen. The stuffed whitetail heads in his office told you that.

Eames heard Carver begin to mutter a prayer at her side as she watched a large red stain appear centre of Sonny's chest. He looked at it, the revolver fired again in reflex with the slug ricocheting off the tarmac and burying itself in his mothers Sable. Then he fell to the ground and the next Eames saw was her perhaps foolish partner. Running across the parking lot closely followed by Madison. Goren was acting on instinct, but it might have been a dangerous thing to do had Art Drummond been hyped up or careless.

Bobby kicked the revolver away and almost fell on Sonny Harkness. Not to pin down a man as good as dead but try to save his life. Eames as she made for the door, saw him breathe twice in his mouth and she knew where Sonny was shot CPR would be pointless. His heart would have at least one hole in it and compressions merely squeeze blood into the chest cavity faster than it's last few reactive beats were doing. When she got halfway across the parking lot she saw Madison's fingers come from the carotid pulse, him shake his head to Goren and her partner sit back on his heels.

The next sounds were of Lewis who had come to the door throwing up on the boards and a whimpering tone from Ma Harkness must have fallen or been hit in the doorway. Eames turned and went that way because Drummond, still with his pistol in both hands, was forehead down on the hood of the Toyota slightly banging it on the dirty white metal.

Eames went to her to be sure she wasn't hit but could see the ragged wood where large slugs had bitten through the frame and the door itself. She wasn't shot as suddenly Eames found Caro beside her. Helping her deal with the woman was a mix of beached whale unable to get up herself and shocked at last into silence.

It was Jay Weaver limping slightly who took initial control. Carver brought out the bed cover from his room for Drummond who had gone so pale and shaky they wondered if he was about to have a heart attack as he left his gun on the hood.

Eames and Goren, by then leaving Madison beside the body of Sonny Harkness, both knew. He might have shot a lot of things with four legs and fur or wings and feathers but the Sheriff had never shot a man before, never mind killed one. They knew from personal experience that was a whole other thing and whether it was his rational aim behind the kind of fugue Sonny was in, what they saw was as much _"suicide by cop"_ as it was him trying to kill his mother.

In her later statement to that effect, Eames said she might have fired even before Art Drummond did. He gave the deceased every chance and more to give up peacefully. And even Goren, who had an anger brewing below the surface Eames had seen before, had said there was no fault to the way the three Bethlehem cops acted. In what for them had always been a hypothetical situation until those fateful minutes at _The Desert Inn_. Statements given to Arizona State Police who responded from Flagstaff to Weaver's urgent radio call.

Statements made five miles away when they were all re-located away from the scene at one of the _"Travellers Rest"_ chain more or less on the side of the I-40. Each one varying no doubt a little because of what stuck in the mind and the slightly different physical views they had from each location. And it was only Goren and Madison heard Sonny Harnesses last words. _"Billy done her. Bright white killed her"._

A phrase he'd said just before he fired the first shot and which, with time, would begin to make some sense. Though they were five very stunned people as they were quickly packing up as instructed by a Lieutenant Guthrie who was in overall charge. Escorted in a short convoy from the scene by Walt Winterbottom in one of the cruisers, she and Carver in the rented Taurus, while a still shaky Lewis travelled in the SUV with Bobby and Caro.

_**To be continued…**_


	26. Chapter 26

**Saturday 9****th**** October**

_**Room 112, The Traveller's Rest Motel**_

Ron Carver set down the phone after speaking to his wife and children in New York. That had made him feel a little better. To hear about soccer practice, how Sarah got a new dress for her dolly and even the fact they might need a new dishwasher. They were all topics far removed from what he had seen a just over an hour ago. And his lie about why they had moved motels was for the very best reasons.

The truth could wait on him getting home when he could tell his wife in private, he'd be safe so she would not worry and once the kids were in bed they could do something in their own would help the memories fade better. But as he unpacked a few things for overnight, the lawyer in Carver was still thinking.

Whether what Sonny had been yelling hysterically in those hideous three or four minutes would constitute a legal _"dying confession"_ of his guilt. At least to something in connection with the death of Whitney Raybold and despite the chaos, one of the Bethlehem deputies had explained what brought them there. In addition to his previous and the story Janey Yelland had told Art Drummond, the Sheriff had good reason to know there was probably lavender polish at _The Desert Inn_. Polish could have been on Sonny's hands or under his nails Monday night.

Monday was the day if you were local and dropped by now and then, as Art did on lots of places round his patch, you knew you'd see Sonny at some point that day. On his hands and knees applying it to the floor in reception or maybe the hallway of the residence. Often with Ma stood over him giving him instruction. Polish ironically that had come from the police station.

Some years back the place had a re-fit and new flooring put in. And same as old cruisers got auctioned off there had been one in Bethlehem of a lot of old or unwanted things. Helped meet the costs of policing. Which meant among old file cabinets, desks and the rest there were the contents of the old store. Where Art's predecessor must had got a good deal on floor polish because there were tins of the stuff all over in there. Ma Harkness had bought them, the floor buffer and some other things.

The cops and others who arrived on the scene had, as was inevitable, begun some speculation Carver and the others could not help but overhear. Whether the body being zipped in a black bag would turn out to have some substance in it that would prove Sonny was _"high"_ at the time to react as he did. Or would turn out just to be _"a loon"_ with this _"Billy"_ he was raving about proof he had some kind of _"split personality or whatever they call it"._

Carver guessed someone rather more qualified would have to make a more professional determination of that, since none of them had all the facts as yet. And though Sonny seemed to be admitting something they would still have to prove it. Hence the search that was underway by suited technicians as they left _"The Desert Inn"._

_**Room 124**_

It was slightly frustrating to Eames that their unexpected arrival at the motel, same time as a bunch of students looked like geologists, meant they had been scattered through the two-story structure. With few chances to talk much to each other and needless to say, kept occupied by the State Police taking separate statements from them.

She and Goren might be NYPD cops, but they were still cops and she got a sense that Lieutenant Guthrie was anxious there should be no suggestion the two of them _"colluded"_ in any way. To massage the facts of an _"officer involved shooting"_ but Eames supposed he had yet to discover at that time, Goren had very good reason not to be especially sympathetic to Art Drummond and his boys.

The harried receptionist had found herself faced with a bunch of joking, inattentive students bickering with each other on room allocations and then the five of them. With a Sheriff's Deputy at their side and someone on the telephone telling her she was to book these people in PDQ and on the Arizona taxpayers. So when she offered 209 and 210 were together, Eames suggested Goren take those two for himself, Caro and Lewis. He was still badly shaken up by it all and she had seen the other night, with his reaction to the not very gory or graphic pictures of Whitney's body, poor Lewis had a very squeamish side to him.

If he needed a bit of _"hand holding"_ Goren who knew him longest was the best person to do that and put the situation in context for him. A scenario playing out Lewis probably never expected to see in his life, though Goren's own mood was not great. It was that mixture of sadness, anger and frustration she had seen a few times with her partner during their working relationship. When certain deaths had occurred and it had taken Eames a while to work out what might be behind that and why they reacted differently sometimes.

The _"frustration"_ was easier to work out. . Even though it wasn't his case to solve or ever know the detail of, Goren knew bits of the puzzle died with Sonny Harkness when Drummond shot him. Things that might prove beyond doubt he did what they thought he did. Things he might have said that would add to the _"understanding and knowledge"_ of people like that were so useful in catching the next one. Eames had a degree of healthy scepticism about methods like _"profiling"_ and _"psychological motivation theory"_ when they were first partnered and she realised how much Goren was _"into"_ that stuff. She learned to be less sceptical and in return she kept him _"grounded"_ other times.

The _"sadness and anger"_ were different. It had taken Eames longer to work that out and she had needed to find out a great deal more about Goren first. The first couple of times she wondered if she was just _"hard hearted" _in some way and her fairly new partner _"soft"_. She even wondered if Bobby had lost his nerve during the time he worked those tough _Narco _assignments undercover. Been shifted out quietly to Major Case because he could no longer hack aspects of the work. It was when she began to learn more about his background and especially about his mother; Eames began to see why they were different.

She grew up in a stable and very pragmatic family with a lot of cops in it and with many in and out of their home. Where even as a child, she must have heard firm views expressed on what constituted _"worthwhile"_ people and knew more than once the phrase _"better off dead" _had been used of someone. Someone who was a cheat or a gambler or drinker to excess. The sort of men like Goren's father had been. Worse and to her own shame, Eames knew she had sometimes fallen into the opinion many cops were known to express. That someone who was _"crazy"_ or known to have a mental illness must be considered _"suspect"_ or _"capable"_ of something by reason of that alone.

You still heard it. She'd heard it outside in the parking lot of _The Desert Inn _being said of Sonny Harkness and Goren must have heard it too. He must be used to it after all these years, but it didn't mean it wouldn't still hurt him or make him angry. To hear the death of anyone who shared any characteristics with his own parents, his own waster of a brother, being almost dismissed as less significant, less important and even a _"good thing"_ for the rest of society. One less problem for it and for the police.

Except Bobby hadn't needed to almost bite her head off when she suggested they still go to _"The Saguaro"_ later. Like she was suggesting they go dance on Sonny Harnesses', as yet un-dug, grave. It was Ron smoothed over that moment as they headed for their different rooms. Pointing out they still needed to eat and that it might be best to stay out of Bethlehem, if only to avoid the questions of the salacious and the curious locals.

_**To be continued…**_


	27. Chapter 27

**Saturday 9****th**** October**

_**Room 209, Traveller's Rest Motel**_

"How is he doing?" asked Goren as Caro came through the door.

"Better. Just needed a bit of time" she replied going to the bed and taking something from a bag and spreading it out.

He continued to turn sheets of paper and write at the table. "So what does Lewis want to do?"

"Go to this _Saguaro _place and find the solution in a beer glass I think. Can work short term for something like this, but I think that makes me the designated driver"

"I'll drive if you want Caro" he said ticking something in his folder was also laid out. "You know I quit that answer a long time back"

"I know Rob" she went to the closet. "Up to you and I think we should take two cars anyway. Ron won't want to be late back I don't suppose and it's silly to all have to leave early for one or be hanging around for others or trying to fix lifts"

"If Johnnie is there I'm sure he'll help out"

"True and I doubt Alex would mind him driving her home"

"Hmm" Goren growled. "And before you ask Caro…yes I noticed"

"And disapprove?"

"None of my business. Which is exactly what I'd get told" he tossed the pencil on the table and turned his chair around.

"I'm not convinced by that" Caro shrugged. "But I'm not getting into your relationship with your partner. Just the shower"

"Come here a minute will you sweetie?"

"No. I know that look" she muttered at him.

Goren watched her for a moment pretending to be cross with him and wondering if it would last. That intensity in their physical attraction for each other and in that aspect of their relationship. Took their time to open that particular _"Pandora's Box"_ when they were first dating but rather like the original once it was, it unleashed something incredible. Certainly broke his record for still being like a horny fifteen year old in a long-term relationship since he was that for real. Wasn't sure he was even this bad when he was fifteen, come to think of it.

"I suppose" she went on crossing the room to him. "I should really be grateful. That I finally got your attention away from all that"

She gestured to the table as he put his knees together so she could straddle his thighs to sit in his lap. His hands rested on her butt.

"And thank you again for indulging my curious itch and helping me" he kissed her mouth briefly.

"Not your curious itch bothers me Rob"

"That can wait" he laughed softly. "Until later. Get a few drinks down you first and then have my wicked way with you"

"Like I need to be drunk?" Caro smiled. "And some of your ways are wicked. Wicked in a good way I mean"

"Do my best to remember what they are" he said unfastening her shirt and kissing round the curve of her breast.

She took his head and pulled it back. "That's one. Now quit. You'll need to iron those jeans don't forget"

Goren pulled her shirt back over. "Won't bother. Wear those green pants"

"You're joking!" Caro snorted. "To a roadhouse where there is going to be yeehaw music and dancing? You'll be telling me next you aim to wear a sweater too"

His eyes rolled. "I guess that's the price I have to pay is it? After years of managing to dress myself? To once again be your dress up doll. Did you never have a _Barbie_ or a _Ken_ as a kid Caro?"

"I had a _GI Joe_ though he wasn't packing where it really counted…" her eyes moved down. "Whereas…"

"Eyes front and centre and hands to yourself" Goren barked like he was still commanding a troop of soldiers.

Except they didn't roll their eyes and grin back. Or look so…so…that he was tempted to change his mind about that instruction after all

"The green pants are out, or rather off. Too _Harvard Yard_ discussing Wittgenstein. Besides Rob I bought you a lovely new shirt when I was in town will be perfect"

Goren moaned softly in negative anticipation and leaned round her to look at the bed where Caro gestured.

"What!" he yelped softly. "Forget picture theory of proposition that's the top half of a pair of pyjamas"

"Trust you to have read bloody Wittgenstein and it is not. That's a perfectly fine blue check shirt with patch pockets I don't intend to have wasted money on. And quit muttering to yourself"

"Y'all be telling me next you bought me a can of chewing tobacco"

"Ugh! No I did not! Disgusting"

"You know" Goren mused "When I was at Fort Hood there was a Texan there could get a whole tin of it…this size…in his mouth at one go"

"Is that supposed to impress me?"

"No but it impressed me and you should see what it did when he spat at millipedes and scorpions…even they were bigger there…and far better than normal spit of course"

Caro laughed, her hands on his shoulders. "Being able to spit accurately an essential life skill for all guys of course"

"Of course" he shrugged.

She leaned forward and kissed his mouth softly. "So you'll wear the shirt?"

"Maybe" he mouth was travelling down her neck.

"Ouch!" he yelped as she rather pulled his hair to get his head out of her cleavage again.

"That shirt and another year you'll look just like Kenny Rogers" she said stroking his greying hair and beard.

"That's no help Caro" Goren hissed "Now get off me and forget taking any of your love to town"

"Sheesh" she replied as she complied. "_Ruby_ has to be the most depressing song ever written"

"Possibly" he turned to the papers again.

"Rob?"

"I know. Five minutes and then a phone call and I'll be pressing my jeans and putting on that new shirt as instructed ma'am. If only to make life easier, though it will itch the heck out me with the dressing still in it"

"It's not that bad and look on the upside Rob"

He looked up watching her begin to get undressed which was enough _"upside"_ for him to handle right there and then.

"Which is?"

"Even more excuse for us leaving early and me getting you out of it?" Caro winked. "Draw those drapes please Rob"

Goren did as he was told. For one thing Lewis had quite enough shocks already today.

_**To be continued…**_


	28. Chapter 28

**9****th****/10****th**** October**

_**The Saguaro, Nr Flagstaff, AZ**_

The roadhouse was everything they expected it to be and more. The oldest part of the building, now the restaurant area, did date back to the time when it began life as a mixture of saloon and stage halt. Its menu was dominated by all parts of _"a beef"_ it was possible to eat. And maybe even some that were not.

The _"cow pie"_ Lewis ordered was a portion of beef stew under crusty pastry the size of a small Japanese five door. And it arrived at the table with a pair of ovenproof china _"horns"_ sticking out of the top, which made them all smile.

The server assured Ron that the _"prairie oysters"_ were just regular meatballs when he hesitated, though they arrived as two, each the size of a baseball, either side of a central piping of creamed potato. There was an earthy, country style to the dining experience they suspected would not get re-told at the Carver family dining table.

The rear of the building was a newer structure. A mixture of huge bar and dance hall. Many _"roadhouses"_ developed those after Prohibition. When some towns and counties retained ordinances against strong liquor and other activities _"liable to corrupt the young"._ Like dancing. Or moving pictures and many of them were the first local movie theatres.

It meant some rural towns were the model of quiet and sober respectability on a Saturday night. Because most of the population got in their buggies and later their cars, drove across the county line and into a more liberal jurisdiction to have a good time. And were back in church Sunday morning, praying earnestly that their wicked neighbours along the highway would soon see the error of their ways.

Johnnie, Randy and one of the other hands from Mesa Creek had saved space for them to squeeze around their table inside. Where the five of them were introduced to Randy's wife and the girlfriend of the other. The young lady turning out to be the Reverend Jones' elder daughter. The band on the platform at the far end played a mainly _"rock/country"_ style with occasional forays into what Caro told Alex was _"Tejano"_ and some traditional "_Nashville"._

Which neither of them much liked and when their hostess Betsy got up to perform her _"party piece"_ the pair of them sat pretending to shove their fingers down their throat and vomit. As Carver commented ruefully to Goren, it said much about twenty first century women they would do such a thing when being implored by another of their sex to _"Stand By Your Man"._

And until they actually played it, neither totally believed Caroline when she went up and asked the band to perform a song called _"Get The Biscuits In The Oven And Your Buns In The Bed"._ It was proving to be an educational evening all round.

At times a funny one too. Ron Carver proved to have an amazing aptitude for _"square"_ and _"line dancing"_. At least he and Eames didn't lose each other during one formation the way Lewis and Caro did, resulting in something of a human _"pile up"_ in their group. But it was Goren had Eames and Caro laughing until they almost ached.

Both knew the guy could dance very well. Had been taught ballroom as a kid by his parents who were, in happy times, keen and quite talented dancers. He'd certainly got both of them round the floor without making fools of themselves at one or two social occasions. But his total lack of aptitude for line dancing left you wondering how he ever coped with Army drill or managed to stay in line and step in occasional blue uniform parades.

Out of _"hold"_ he seemed to lose it totally. Turned right when everyone else turned left or went forwards went they went back. Carver or Lewis or Johnnie or whoever was beside him at the time needed to shove him or yell extra instructions to even keep him roughly right and what was funnier was his expression. Just could not work out why he was so hopeless and in the end gave up.

It didn't especially surprise Eames that with his early start next morning, Ron excused himself quite early and that Caro and Goren went with him. One or other was going to drive him to the local airport and she supposed they had something else they might like to be doing.

_**Room 209, The Traveller's Rest**_

As Caro stretched out beside him she looked to Goren like a _"Venus Reclining"._ Maybe the one by _Poussin_, which was his particular favourite, though _"Venus Getting Her Breath Back"_ might be more appropriate. His eyes caressed her body from head to toe and all points between, his own heart rate and breathing rather closer to normal for the moment.

Then she reached out one arm to pull his head back down to hers and with a soft purr began to work her tongue inside his mouth. Not so much in a suggestive tempo as a very obvious one. Before he wrapped his arms round her and rolled her back on top of him.

Content to enjoy the sensation of her mouth trailing down his body until somewhere around his navel they both startled at the door to the next room banging.

"Guess that's Lewis back" she said softly.

"Can't go through a door without slamming it"

He writhed slightly as her tongue tickled his right hip.

"So long as he's not knocking here in five minutes"

"If he does…" his attention left him for a moment "If he does he's a dead man"

"Speaking of not dead yet"

Then his attention focussed again. Very rapidly. On part of his anatomy, the word _"prehensile"_ and how that didn't just apply to the tails of certain monkeys.

_**Four Winds Cottage, Mesa Creek Ranch**_

Eames woke to see Johnnie's hair spread out across the pillow he was more or less face down in. It had been like a silken sheet brushing over her body and limbs at times. Almost like he used it as an additional way to arouse her.

She lay a moment as a series of images went through her head, though all of them about how astonishing he was as a lover. Uninhibited, sensual and no question good to look at. His body firm and toned but not like some muscle bound gym addict and one he had great control of. Without making you feel he was doing you a favour.

Very unselfish until he sensed she was beyond pleasuring further as they shifted positions in his bed and at least twice Eames found herself clinging to the rails of the bed head. Then he wasn't so much rough, as focussed on achieving his own release and for a guy, did that in a fairly verbal way.

They had both known the moment they stepped through the door there was never going to be any _"coffee"._ He'd taken her hand and without a word led her down the hall to his bedroom, shut the door and proceeded to undress her. Somewhere between there and the bed, their clothes were slowly shed and he never actually kissed her on the mouth until they were both on it, naked and he'd kissed a lot of other places first.

As Eames made to get out of bed he woke and turned over. Somewhat belatedly she got shy as she covered herself with the sheet.

"Why are you going Alex?" he asked softly.

"Because I have to" she replied realising she had no options for modesty given where her clothes were.

"Y'all not fifteen with your Daddy gonna come looking for you" he shrugged not seeming bothered by how much of him, her sheet clutching left exposed.

"Maybe not" she said getting up and going to retrieve some clothes. "But I still have to go"

"Before Bobby comes looking for you?"

"Don't be stupid" she said sitting on the end of the bed to begin dressing.

"But it's him it most bothers you knowing where you've been"

She turned to look at him knowing that was true but not replying as Johnnie shoved an extra pillow behind his head and lay watching her.

"Is that because you sort of feel you are still on duty?"

"In a way perhaps I do" she fastened her bra and turned her panties right side out.

"So did the lovely Caroline get her own room?"

"That's different and you know it so stop being so…so foolish"

"Did you ever sleep with him?"

"No!" Eames snapped.

"Why not?"

She stood up to pull on her underwear and pants. "Because it complicates the situation. Even for a one-time…thing. Goren is complex enough and for anything more you heard yourself. We were not joking. We are not each other's type. And why this sudden fascination with our relationship?"

"Just curious why what Bobby would think matters so much?" yawned Johnnie.

"Like the opinion of someone you worked with never counted?"

She slid into her shirt and began to fasten the buttons.

"Sure Alex. But I never had a one on one partnership like that. Just curious how much it is like a marriage? Like you hear people say about cops"

Eames shrugged. "In some ways it is. Just without the sex. In our case anyway"

"But you must have wondered what he would be like in bed?"

"No I have not" she lied sitting down again to put on her socks.

Johnnie laughed softly. "Everyone thinks that sometime about someone they know well. Livens up a dull meeting for a second or two. You can bet your life he wondered that about you. He's a guy. Guys do that"

"Maybe some women do too"

"So you did think about it Alex" he teased her.

"Once" she said slipping into her shoes. "For all of five seconds about five years ago. Happy now?"

"Not really. Not if I can't persuade you to stay" he reached out his hand.

Eames sat on the side of the bed; aware dawn was breaking and took it. Trying to resist the temptation just looking at him intensified.

"I'm dressed now"

"Pity but before you go we must discuss…"

Anything more Johnnie was about to say was interrupted. By loud and insistent banging on the front door.

_**To be continued…**_


	29. Chapter 29

**Sunday 10****th**** October**

_**Four Winds Cottage, Mesa Creek Ranch**_

It did cross Alex's mind for a fraction of a second to wonder if Goren, in some mad moment of concern for her morals, had come looking for her. Got up early, seen the Taurus still missing from the parking lot below and put two and two together. Except he would never do something like that.

Suggesting she stay in the bedroom might have been a slightly old fashioned and _"gentlemanly"_ act on Johnnie's part and he was probably right. As he pulled on his pants quickly and hurried into the hall. Some minor crisis on the ranch like an early riser seeing a section of fence-line down and come by to tell him.

But then Eames could hear words like _"police"_ and _"search warrant"_ and _"drugs"_ and suddenly felt sick. She could hear Johnnie protesting, sets of footsteps, someone very like that Lieutenant Guthrie's voice reading him his rights and rattling on the door across the hall to one of the rooms he didn't use. It was obviously another screw up they seemed to specialise in round here, but she was caught up in what seemed to be a raid.

Somehow in the midst of all that Eames kept her head. Kept well away from her purse had her credentials in, stood up and kept her hands where they could be seen even in the grey dawn light starting to fill the room. Danny Ross let her come here to help her partner, not get herself shot by accident by some dumb, trigger happy cowboy with a badge.

As the bedroom door was pushed open and an unarmed Sheriff Drummond stepped in, he took one look at her and drawled _"Oh sheeyit"_

The way it was only said West of the Mississippi and South of the Missouri.

_**Room 209, The Traveller's Rest**_

"Oh shit" groaned Goren softly after listening to a few words on the other end of the line.

Caro turned over, watching how pale he went and the way he was suddenly sitting up, rubbing his temple as if with an instant tension headache.

"Yeah…yes I understand Sheriff…no I didn't and nor did I expect…not this soon…yes I see…Guthrie…guess he would…uhuh…if you can I'd be very grateful" he shook his head. "It is? Oh no! Uhuh…though unless you find…yeah of course. I suppose you better had if she asks…sure"

He put the phone down and for a moment was still, before he turned to Caro.

"Drummond" he said quietly not really knowing where to start.

"I gathered"

"They just went into Four Winds Cottage with warrants and…"

"What did you just say?" Caroline sat up.

"Guthrie and a drug search team from State just went into Johnnie's place and…" he paused and sighed. "And Alex is there"

"Does that really surprise you Rob?" she said it almost with a snort of disbelief he could be that stupid.

"Yes…no…oh shit I don't know…just assumed she came back when Lewis did…what I didn't expect was for anything to happen so quickly…or there"

Caroline looked at him. "This is down to you isn't it?"

"Some of it" he muttered. "I think I'd better explain Caro"

"Yes I think you better had Rob" she got out of bed and grabbed for a robe on the side. "And expect to be doing it to more than me before this day is out"

She switched on the coffee machine as she went by it on her way to the bathroom. Sat head in hands, the biggest surprise to Goren was she didn't slam the door behind her.

_**Bethlehem County Police Cruiser**_

Eames sat in the back of the vehicle pale, shaking a little and quietly seething with the whole world as it swept out of the gates of Mesa Creek Ranch. Not sure who she was most angry with. Apart from herself.

At first she was sure it was all some foul up and found she was almost yelling at Art Drummond. That he was the ringmaster of the circus round here and was it that having failed to _"set up"_ her partner for a crime, he was looking to do it to someone else now? Almost demanding to be given access to Johnny they had shut up in the sitting room and feeling he needed help.

Until things Drummond was saying began to sink in and she was led out after cursory search of her pockets and purse she knew in one sense he was obliged to do. Embarrassed to be doing it Eames realised and that he was assuring her he would do his best to keep her out of this. It wasn't until she was escorted to the door and past those two unused rooms now had the doors open; dawn really began to break on her consciousness.

She'd never tried the doors since she had no reason to go in _"spare rooms"_. So she had not realised until she heard them forced open they were locked. That did seem a little odd until you thought of a reason to keep them that way. To stop strangers to the place opening the wrong door looking for the bathroom and seeing something you didn't want them to. Something Eames saw in a sudden flashback from yesterday. When she saw Goren try to go in one before realising the bathroom was the next one along the hall.

And when she walked by where cops and CSU technicians were inside taking pictures all she could see as Drummond hustled her to the door were plants on benches. Not tall leafy cannabis but dozens of what looked like cacti of some description. Eames was also quick enough to turn her head the other way to the room opposite. Some kind of desk or workbench and she was sure that on it she saw that sort of paraphernalia before in her career. The sort you used to made homemade pills or capsules.

That was when she remembered. Something Goren had said when he was arrested for killing Whitney Raybold. Eames had read it in his statement. What she said to him in the bar parking lot about _"cactus juice",_ that he knew was reference to something you didn't ordinarily come across much, if ever, in New York. Mescaline. The natural psychedelic substance found in a number of species of cacti. Notably peyote.

A substance she recalled Caroline asking Johnnie about in the kitchen. _Was it only yesterday?_ When they were speaking of his alcohol addiction and rehab. She heard or knew it was sometimes used as part of the traditional Navajo cure. _Of course Caro would know that_. And Eames remembered something else as Art more or less put her in the cruiser and said they'd return the hire car soon as it was cleared from the scene

Their first night in Bethlehem. She, Carver and Lewis. Three concerned strangers at _The Desert Inn._ Like travellers from a foreign land seeking answers. Ron mentioning to Johnnie Belray what Goren had said, what he had wondered might have been something Whitney Raybold was involved in. That brief and slightly surprised or odd look on Johnnie's face when he realised Bobby had worked Narco. Why Goren would know what _"cactus juice"_ was sometimes slang for. That it wasn't some alcoholic local _"hooch"_ as Eames herself might have assumed. She just wished she could remember what he said in answer to Carver's question.

"Stop the car Walt" she snapped.

"But I…" said the young part time.

"I'm going to be sick"

The cruiser slewed to a halt and he got out to let her out. Or rather she didn't get out. She leaned out and threw up the half cup of coffee one of the State Police gave her while Drummond was calling Goren at the motel.

Eames grabbed a tissue from her purse, spat and wiped her mouth.

"I got some water ma'am" said the solicitous young man. "Not been drunk from neither"

"Thanks" she said her stomach still churning.

At the thought that if Whitney was into drugs, if that drug was mescaline and Johnnie Belray was growing and supplying it illegally there was another possibility. Who she really went to meet last Monday night, who might have killed her and who was perfectly placed to cover up the tracks of that crime. Quite literally. With forty-seven goaty steers the next day.

Eames took a sip of the water and remembered her senior year Lit class. _Hamlet_. Something he said about King Claudius. She thought of that charming smile of Johnnie's. As he spoke, made lunch, joked at the roadhouse and undressed her. Then she remembered.

"_That one may smile and smile and be a villain"_

_**To be continued…**_


	30. Chapter 30

**Sunday 9****th**** October**

_**The Knife And Fork, I – 40**_

Carver sat listening to the story Caroline Reese had told him. He was slightly surprised when she pitched up on her own at his door at the time they had agreed last night to go for breakfast. A time would allow for one of them to drive him to Flagstaff, to make his flight to Phoenix and then home.

Time to make it for dinner with his family, tuck his kids into bed and try to make up a little with a wife had not been best pleased when he dropped work in the hands of his junior and _"ran off"_ to Arizona. Almost certainly wrecking their weekend plans. All because of Robert Goren she did meet once or twice and very briefly. And didn't really understand why Ron felt he had to go, whatever kind of _"genius at times"_ he had been to work with.

"Oh Lord" he sighed reaching for his coffee. "So does…"

"Ron" said Caro slightly wearily. "I doubt I can answer many, if any, of your questions. I only got a very condensed version from Rob myself. Mostly supposition. You must have seen him do it? Joining the dots to make a picture? And there's a lot he doesn't know or isn't telling me yet"

"You had a fight too" he said sympathetically.

"Not exactly"

Caroline pushed some of her mainly uneaten breakfast round the plate in front of her. Then looked up at him.

"Maybe a little. I don't think he imagined for one minute it would pan out like this. Trouble with Rob is he sometimes loses…loses sight of the bigger picture he can be so…so focused…"

"On the pieces of the puzzle?" suggested Carver. "Saw that myself a few times. My trouble, if there was one, could be getting him to fill in all the parts. Legally speaking and for court. This time of course it's different for him. Bobby is or was, one of the parts of the puzzle himself"

"You could be right" she sighed. "And of course he's beating himself up. That he should have said something to Alex except…"

"Except he had no idea how right it seems his hunch turned out to be" Ron steepled his fingers. "And it may not be that Johnnie killed Whitney. I don't pretend I ever had huge insight into Bobby's personal relationship with Detective Eames but it never struck me it was like that. Where he would have felt it his business or his right to tell her to…to interfere…in what was essentially a personal matter. Or vice versa"

"More or less what he said"

"And I doubt she was ever in danger from Belray. Quite the reverse. If his…some of his…um…interest in her…was part of some strategy to be sure he knew what we knew and were discovering…the reverse is probably true"

Caro snorted an ironic laugh. "Maybe you'd like to be the one to tell Alex that Ron? After I've convinced her Rob didn't ask me to go do that checking in Flagstaff for him because he didn't trust her to keep her mouth shut"

Carver sighed. "I see why it could begin look like that from where she might be right now. Now the other important thing? Are you sure you don't need me to stay? That Detective Eames won't? Only I can? No trouble"

"Rob says not. Drummond said they had no reason to think her other than a bystander. Just it was Guthrie's operation so he had to wait on his say so to let her go. I'm sorry he's not here Mr Carver but he's gone to speak to Lewis before she gets back. He's likely to be as shocked. Was Lewis in a way brought the possible viper into our collective bosom"

"As Sun Tzu once said, _keep your friends close and your enemies closer_"

"Indeed. I'm sure Rob will call you tonight. If that's okay?"

"Of course. I will want to hear from him" Carver gave her hand a rather stiff pat. "It will be fine Dr Reese. Don't worry"

_**Room 210, The Traveller's Rest**_

It didn't help Goren that Lewis was pretty hung over that morning. Took him five minutes to open the door and just as well he was thinking fairly quickly and was kind of large. Otherwise that family coming by on the walkway as the door finally opened, would have been treated to the same sight he was.

Lewis wearing only his socks, his hand and squinting more myopically than usual without his spectacles and with the sort of blindness one whiskey chaser too many could induce. As he more or less pushed him inside he didn't point out to his friend the hand wasn't doing a very good job and it wasn't like he'd not seen it before. More than he might like in recent weeks.

Instead, Goren was making coffee, picking up clothes and wishing his friend would hurry up in that bathroom so he had his full attention. Very nasty shock turned out to be a very effective cure for a thick head where Lewis was concerned, but not one he'd want reason to have to use again in a hurry.

Mostly his friend of too many years was silent. That sort of stunned silent as Goren put a few of the big pieces together for him. Aware it was something of a jumble to take in and perhaps glad, slightly fuddled as he was, Lewis wasn't asking some of the questions Caro had of him. Questions he didn't have all the answers to in terms of what had happened. And some uncomfortable ones he wasn't sure he was done answering to her satisfaction. Yet.

The sort of questions Ron might be asking her across the Freeway as Goren stood at the window keeping a watch on the parking lot. With Alex due back soon and who knew in what state of mind. He wasn't paying total attention to what Lewis was saying at times. Beyond trying to re-assure him despite what he feared it was not, absolutely not, any fault of his.

If part of his motivation in all of this was for Johnnie Belray to get close to the investigation, Goren had been fooled himself. Whether it was just in relation to Belray's almost certain involvement in mescaline from what Drummond reported they already saw or the murder of Whitney or both. Any murder on that land could have led to a level of poking around Mesa Creek Ranch the guy certainly would not want.

Lewis sipped coffee. "He didn't know until Monday night you were a cop, never mind mostly a homicide cop. I was there when he came up to…oh shit…if John killed Whitney he must have come almost straight from there to see us"

"If he did kill her, of course he did" Goren muttered. "We were the joker in the pack. He knew that place; it's landscape and people's habits to know no one else was around to see him. Then he remembered us in the yard. Had no idea where we were, what we were doing or what we might have seen and heard. And even if it is just dope he's into, he must have almost had to change his underwear when he learned how I pay my bills"

"Maybe he even thought Drummond would ask for your help when the body was found? If he knew he had a hot-shot NYPD guy on the doorstep?"

"Maybe"

"Did he know you came back that way Monday night Bob? I don't remember it being said when all three of us were at the VW discussing the water pump"

"That confirms my recall Lewis" Goren chewed his thumbnail "And I'm sure I never said anything when I was with him in the yard. Why would I? We were talking about bulls and going up to the Nation to meet his cousin. I'm guessing he didn't know until some time Tuesday. When he could see Drummond scouting out my fresh footprints and starting to see me as a suspect"

Lewis frowned. "Why would he then set out to help you? Oh I get it. Thanks to me Johnnie knew you had the cavalry coming. Guessed or worried Ron and Detective Alex might start to find out stuff proved you didn't do it. It's like magic isn't it Bob? Or tricks that rely on misdirection. Kept us looking away from the ranch where he certainly had something to hide…all those cacti…boy…and it was him told us too about Sonny's previous…"

Goren laughed softly despite himself. "You're sounding like a cop yourself now pal"

"Alex keeps telling me that" he murmured taking another sip of coffee. "Just a minute…how did polish get on Whitney's clothes?"

"Because it was Sonny raped Whitney"

"What!"

"You heard him Lewis. _I never killed her. Billy done her. I never killed her"_ Goren scratched his beard. "I think Sonny was in all that telling the truth. I thought _Billy _was maybe a symptom of a psychotic break he was having…even some kind of alternative persona. Until a while back. When Caro told me who or rather what _Billy_ might have been and that he was actually confessing to the sexual part of what happened to Whitney"

"Well I wish you'd tell me Bob" he muttered pulling on the t-shirt that had been picked off the floor for him.

"His penis. Not sure I fully understand it…mood she was in she didn't take time to really explain it to me…"

"She mad with you?"

Goren turned and nodded. "Not sure yet how much"

"I'm sorry Bob" said Lewis softly.

"Never mind that…I mean of course I mind that…and almost more than anything else I'm worried what this might do as well to…with...Sonny did it. There's strong evidence points to him. The polish, their history, his record. Even what happened at the motel could be seen as him admitting guilt. Weaver told me in the aftermath they hadn't even mentioned her name. He just flipped almost as they walked in the door and ran out the back. He sexually assaulted her but only after someone else already knocked her on the head. Semi conscious when he found her"

"You'll have to use diagrams Bobby. I'm not following"

"Okay" he paced in front of the window. "Suppose it happened like this? Johnnie and Whitney do fall out over dope. He loses it. Hits her with a rock. Then he hears or sees Sonny coming. Who followed her there as he possibly had before. Expecting to watch Whitney making out with some guy. So Johnnie has to hide. Sonny comes across Whitney who would seem to be very drunk. More or less dark by then, her incoherent and semi conscious that's how she would seem. Remember? There wasn't a lot of blood. Takes advantage as the saying goes. Whitney dies. Maybe Sonny realised that then…or…but it doesn't matter. The point is Johnnie has seen what Harkness did. Suddenly he had the perfect fall guy for the crime"

Lewis thumped the table. "Touch down Goren! He expects the cops to find evidence would lead to Sonny or at least suspect him. Doesn't know until Tuesday your footprints are there. To and from that area or what has gone in the bar. Whether he's trying to help you or not, when we start snooping around what Belray needs to do is make sure we get guided towards Sonny somehow. Not to anything might lead back to him. If Sonny gets caught for the rape they will assume he killed her to do it"

The much less hung over Lewis paused and frowned. "It would also explain why Sonny had good reason to be listening at the motel that night. He wanted to know if we were onto him"

Goren turned back to the window as Lewis poured himself more coffee. This time no cream.

"Lewis" he said softly "I need to go. My partner just showed up as the passenger in a police car"

_**The Parking Lot, The Traveller's Rest**_

By the time Walt drove in Eames was mad again. With only one person.

Goren appeared to open the door and help her out. He was saying something she never listened to and never heard.

All she heard was her voice hissing _"You bastard Goren!"_

Then the sound of her hand hitting his face harder than she ever hit anyone in her life before.

She walked away leaving him in the middle of the parking lot.

_**To be continued…**_


	31. Chapter 31

**Sunday 10****th**** October**

_**I**__**nside And Outside Room 124, The Traveller's Rest**_

It took Goren a moment for his eyes to focus after that blow even though it was a slap not a punch. His hand went instinctively not to his face, though it was stinging like hell, but his left ear. Which felt like it was ringing in the New Year.

He should have expected Eames to be mad. And he should have thought to say something to Winterbottom. Ask if he knew what Drummond had said or what he said himself. Because to be that mad Eames must have got the wrong impression about just how much he really knew. But he knew his smart and sassy partner well enough to know one thing.

That once she knew what was in Johnnie's Belray's cottage she'd begin to put it together. Same as he had after Drummond telephoned him. But as he headed instinctively after her, Goren knew it was worse than he feared. That Eames might actually believe he knew more and let her, in all probability, sleep with a man heavily into illicit drugs and possibly a killer.

_Eames ran the last few steps aware that bastard had stopped standing there working out why his face hurt and followed her. To be sure of getting to her door and having it firmly shut before he caught up to her. He asked for it and should think himself lucky at the last minute she opened her hand. Slapped him, didn't punch him._

_She even put the chain on the door. She'd seen Goren pick a few locks in her time and didn't trust him not to. Except that was a crazy thought and she was thinking crazy thoughts. Walt said that Goren spoke to Drummond last evening. About a pattern he saw. Something to do with newspaper items and there was only one way he knew that._

_Not only had he betrayed her, he had not trusted her. Saw her _"mooning"_ over Belray so sent that woman he was all over like a St Bernard puppy. To dig stuff up and then keep it from her. His partner. The one he was supposed to trust. He was the ex Narco cop. He saw something at the cottage yesterday. He must have. Maybe even did it to punish her. For taking her knickers off some place she shouldn't just because he chose to keep it in his pants for weeks. Shit! He could be such a child in his behaviour and thinking for a man could see twists and kinks and weakness so easily in others._

He knocked softly. "Eames. Can we talk please?"

_Go to hell she thought loading the coffee machine and saying nothing._

He knocked again. "Please? I know you are mad with me"

_She tossed her jacket on the bed thinking it wasn't a morning totally wasted if he worked that one out._

"Alex?"

_Classic move buster. The personal approach._

"Alex I know you've had a terrible shock. I know you will have worked out some things I have too since Drummond called me" he paused and lowered his voice. "Alex please let me in. People are starting to look"

"_So F off then!" she snapped finally._

_Eames began to remove all her clothes. So badly wanted a shower. She felt like she had been raped. And that_ _self-centred, know-all, obsessive outside the door might as well have held her down._

Goren sighed. Paced to and fro a couple of steps. Then knocked again.

"I know how you must be feeling but believe me if I thought or realised.."

"_No you don't!" she yelled throwing her clothes in a heap. "You have no idea! None!"_

_Except as she said it and grabbed for her robe in the bathroom she knew it was untrue. Her partner had been manipulated, used by that bitch Nicole Wallace. She tried to ruin his career and whatever else he did, that would not have been Goren's aim._

"Eames" he said firmly deciding perhaps a different tack might work. "You know I can't stand out here in a public place yelling certain things through the door. We need to speak in private for you to understand"

_She reached for the TV remote and flicked it on. Being Sunday the content was inevitable._

"Blessed are the peacemakers said our Lord"_ expounded the preacher holding up his hands_. "And oh how we need them now brothers and sisters"

"_Yeah " thought Eames setting the shower to run. "Send a few to the Traveller's Rest on the I-40 in AZ"_

Goren listened, his glowing ear to the door. He was being told the meek would inherit the Earth. About all they would have left to inherit once they sent this guy all their cash, but before the promises in exchange for calling this number right now, it changed.

And the volume increased such he startled a little and wondered if Juan's wife, if he had one, knew Conchita was expecting his baby. Before the speed of the Spanish and the complexity got beyond his _"everyday"_ a lot of New York cops had, working in a city with a thirty percent Hispanic population.

_Eames concluded Conchita should have kept her legs together before shoving that image out of her head. Flicked the channel again as Bart Simpson invited someone to eat his shorts. She just hoped as she went in the bathroom Goren's were getting more and more in a bunch and more and more uncomfortable standing out there. Whatever sort he was wearing._

Goren leaned his forehead against the door. Thinking _"Doh!"_ was something he should be saying now. He should have expected this. Caro warned him. While he was _"joining the dots"_ as she put it to him, she was able to put herself where Eames was earlier. See it the way it might seem to her.

He sensed some people behind him. Turned and gave them a weak grin and a shrug. Like he was having a _"domestic" _and wasn't some creepy guy trying to peek through the spy hole it might look like.

_The water was as hot as she could bear it. As Eames almost scrubbed herself in the shower. Trying to erase any sense of Belray from her body. Trying not to think as she washed different parts. Of what parts of him had been where all over her last night. It didn't leave a lot untouched._

_Despite the heat she shivered in revulsion. That a man could be that…that convincing as he had been. It must have been all to do with what he was hiding at the cottage. Made you wonder how far he would have gone. Seduced Lewis if he was gay to get the inside rail? And that weird conversation before the knock at his door?_

_What was that about? Just a silly sort of joke? Or him trying to get an inside line on how loyal she might be to Goren and why? That he suspected Bobby might be on to something and was seeking to see if he could drive a wedge somehow? And then she realised it wasn't water or shampoo trickling into her mouth. It was tears. And the one man might help them go away was the other side of two doors. Unless he'd gone away? Eames cried harder as she realised if division was his aim, Belray had succeeded. Just not the way he expected to_

Goren sat down on the step. Telling one of the cleaners starting to do rounds he wasn't locked out of his room. Wondering as the cart trundled down the covered walkway what sort of check they might have done before letting him in. Trouble was you couldn't stop being a cop sometimes.

Maybe that was the problem? Despite himself he had to scratch that itch. Should have just left well alone. Been glad he was free and _"got outta town"_ yesterday afternoon. Soon as the VW was capable of getting outside Bethlehem County borders. How was he to know he was going to provide Guthrie via Drummond the last piece of a puzzle? One he only knew a little of and suspected the rest.

So much he didn't know or understand. And if only Alex would open the door and let him tell her that. Maybe together they could work it out? Like they always did.

_**To be continued…**_


	32. Chapter 32

**Sunday 10****th**** October**

_**The Workshop, Creasy Haulage, Bethlehem**_

The rain which had started to fall was hitting the iron roof with heavier and louder _"pinging"_ noises as Lewis set about using the facilities inside to effect a more permanent solution to a loose door panel while he had the chance. Bob might claim it was only held in place by chewing gum but it wasn't a lot better than that. And since it was one they had picked up in Kentucky, he was determined to get it all the way to LA. It was relatively rust free unlike its predecessor resembled Swiss cheese, yet it still took the two of them to eventually wrestle it free of the mountings.

There was no logic to what panels would do in terms of where they corroded or _"gave up"_ just as there was no _"logic"_ to the kind of stand off Bobby and Detective Alex were having back at the Motel. Something Lewis saw developing from his second floor vantage point and looked to be settling in for the duration when Caro returned from Flagstaff Airport.

Lewis had stayed well clear of it and had to smile when he saw the dilemma his buddy had when she arrived and walked from the SUV back towards their part of the building. Bobby didn't know whether to run after her, when she made no attempt to go speak to him and risk Alex somehow _"escaping"_ or stay where he was. And hope to hell Caro would forgive him later for ignoring her.

Quite where Detective Alex could _"escape"_ to or how was difficult to say, since the Taurus had yet to be returned by the cops, but as Caro pointed out as they stood on the walkway looking down together, neither was at much of an advantage. She might be inside with the benefit of warmth and shelter but Alex had nothing to eat and was trapped in there. Rob as she always called him, might be starting to chill and would now be getting damp if not wet, but his only hope of a coffee or any breakfast was to persuade someone passing by to help him. And there would come a time when if he did that, he'd need to go to the bathroom.

It was a lousy situation that brought all this about but the two of them did have a smile or two. At the bizarre solutions Goren and Eames might have to resort to as answers to their practical dilemmas. Unless or until, one of them gave in and they were determined not to get involved. So when Detective Alex telephoned his room just before they left, Lewis told _her "sorry no I won't go get you anything take out"_. And just a look from Caro was enough to tell Bobby she wasn't about to go get him a sweater from their room when he came halfway to meet them as they left.

But it was still hard to get in the SUV and drive away even if Lewis was himself hungry by then. They were making for the cop shop with the intention of moving the VW right away from the place after all. At some point it seemed likely Johnnie Belray would be brought there and even if the police did not mind any of them around the yard, Lewis did not want to be near the man himself. Fixing up the camper with him in the cell a few feet way.

Caroline agreed and they were driving through town as the big church in Main Street was turning out. That Nate Daniels flagged them down, offering the facility they were now in. Giving Lewis the chance, with rain almost certain to work in the dry, to make use of any tools and equipment and saying he would be round later with one of his sons to help. Too good an offer to refuse. So after a quick feed at Brown's where whispers were already starting about something else going on up at Mesa Creek, they went round to the police station. Removing the VW as some CSU people were unloading boxes and bags from a large SUV of their own. Including one containing cacti.

"Lewis" said Caroline from across the shed where she was at the sink. "Have and Rob you been using these drapes to wipe dishes or your hands at times? They are filthy"

"Not exactly" he replied sheepishly. "They were a set the guy in Kansas threw in with the carburettor and the winch handle for the roof"

"Wrapped them in more like" she muttered rubbing hard among the soap.

"Some of it's what Bob calls _road wear and tear_. But is really just his excuse for the fact his standards of pickiness have slipped in recent weeks"

She laughed. "The secret slob inside squared away man finally came out did it? Bet he blames you"

"Of course…ugnh…" he gave the panel a final shove into place. "You think he's still outside Caro? He'll be getting very wet"

"Stop feeling sorry for him Lewis"

"It's not all his fault" he said quietly joining her at the sink.

"I know" she let out the dirty water. "No more than it's Alex's. I was thinking about it on the way back from dropping Ron at the airport. Too many things going on for both of them. At the same time as trying to be cops and in a strange place. Doubt it ever happened before"

"Don't think they ever fell out like this before. Though I think it came pretty close once or twice back when Bob was so bad and…well you know…what he was doing to himself this time last year. Had us all scared"

"Yeah I know" she smiled beginning to run fresh water. "What I don't know is how we can get those overalls clean"

"You got to get them off me first" Lewis winked.

"Why do you think I suggested it" Caro said softly then laughed cruelly when Lewis jumped back as she reached out her soapy hand.

"Not sure what scared you most there Lewis. The soap or the thought I might just…"

"Add urine to list of stains to be removed" he growled, heading for the pack of new wiper blades he had been meaning to replace when they got here.

_**The Parking Lot, The Traveller's Rest**_

It wasn't the rain, cold, hunger, needing the bathroom or even common sense, which finally broke the impasse at Room 124. It was oddly enough pride and the arrival of Lieutenant Len Guthrie of the Arizona State Police. Not a surprise to Eames whom he had been able to contact by telephone to say he was on his way, but more of one to Goren, she decided not to tell.

Eames might have calmed down a lot and felt better for being showered and changed but Goren still had questions to answer and she had ignored his occasional knocks and pathetic attempts to get her to speak to him. Outside getting cold, hungry and doubly miserable with Caro having ignored him too, Goren had exhausted all approaches. Including swallowing pride and begging.

In truth, both were starting to feel a little foolish about the way they were behaving but determined admission to that would be akin to _"defeat"._ The indirect cause of the trouble also turned out to be the solution. When Guthrie drew up in his Chevy and took possession of the keys to the white Taurus from a State Trooper, who then headed off with his buddy.

It was the _"pride"_ of two New York cops not to be seen to look foolish in front of one from Arizona that resolved it. When he approached Room 124 Goren never let on his partner was furious with him and had locked him out and Eames never hinted it either. They might have given each other a few uncomfortable looks when the door finally opened but they went along with Guthrie's suggestion. He'd take them both, it seemed hadn't eaten yet, across the bridge with him. Also unfed with the _"Belray business"._ Do some thanking and explaining to them both.

They set off in silence with each other in his car for _"The Knife and Fork". _Both hoping by then peace might break out but wondering and worried. What this might do long term to their partnership and working relationship. One with Goren not due back at 1PP for almost another five months, would be a long time before they got chance to re-build day to day.

_If it ever could be re-built after something like this._

_**To be continued…**_


	33. Chapter 33

**Sunday 10****th**** October**

_**The Knife And Fork Steakhouse, I –40**_

Eames opted to sit next to Len Guthrie at the quiet booth for four in the corner of the diner. For one thing he took up less room than Goren did being another of those lean, wiry almost desiccated men you seemed to see a lot of out here. Almost like the hot and dry climate of much of the state and its winds sucked every ounce of spare moisture from their bodies. And the other reason was simple. That way she could see her partner's reaction to what he was saying.

It almost felt like playing Goren at the observation game he was so good at with suspects, but he certainly would realise that and said little to begin with. The only times he did speak were to counter balance a few things Guthrie said. Where perhaps his opinion born out of the job, some personal prejudice or maybe his religious conviction was _"slanting"_ his exposition of the situation. And once or twice Eames got the distinct sense Guthrie did not totally appreciate Bobby doing that.

Either that Goren referenced a decision of the Supreme Court in 1990 in clarifying the legal position of peyote for her or that he seemed to have a more _"Eastern Liberal take"_ on things. Like _The Native American Church._ Being in no sense _"Christian"_ to Guthrie's mind, despite its position on Jesus Christ and because peyote or especially the mescaline it contained, formed part of the rituals. Bobby's reference to _"John 2: 1-11"_ or some sacramental rituals as possible parallel was not appreciated. But then Eames guessed Guthrie had rarely met a polymath police officer like Goren before.

He certainly did not know and neither did Eames until that moment, one of the people Goren had met and spoken with on Tuesday was a senior officer of the Navajo Nation that has it's own police force. So he was rather more informed about the tensions there had been at times between the State of Arizona and it's laws and interpretation of them and the legal mescaline users there. As the largest Native American Tribe, the local Navajo not only had thousands of years of ancestral use of the _"drug"_ as proved by archaeological finds, but were a substantial core of the quarter of a million strong church. And trust Goren to know that was founded by _Quannah Parker_, a Texan Comanche, though Eames was only to wonder about a possible connection to that state much later.

But all of that was essential for Eames to understand why if mescaline use was detected outside members of _The Native American Church_, which usually meant off the Nation as well, it was illegal. Why, when incidents of it being found in capsule form on kids at clubs or detected occasionally in people brought to hospital, people like Guthrie in the State Police got interested. And an increase in such incidents had been picked up for almost two years. Mainly in Arizona but also across the borders in Southern California, and into New Mexico.

A small but growing number and occurring in places with no previous history and not all involving the obvious people associated with other drug possession or use. Quite a few older people, otherwise respectable and often well educated. But mostly younger people, as you might expect and a lot of students. They always featured high in the _"experimental" _type of drug use involving psychedelics according to Goren; she had no reason to disbelieve on that. As he said himself, the influence of a certain Harvard professor called Timothy Leary lived on even if the _"movement"_ was lower key these days.

"And you suspected a source in Arizona?" she asked Guthrie was one of those men seemed to communicate with his mouth full as normal habit.

He chewed and gave Goren a not totally friendly look. "Yeah and like Detective Goren says there was a…degree of tension for a while we liased with the Res Police and those…the _NAM_. Most times in the past we traced back to their legitimate supply leaking or it coming up from Mexico. But you know what the tech people can do these days. The more samples we built up, the more we began to see they were matching each other chemically and were different to the legit source. Much more concentrated."

"And you suspected it could be a Native American?" asked Eames.

"Of course!" he said before realising he was perhaps stereotyping again. "What I mean is it's not like LSD where you need to have a good chemist but it's harder for your average person to grow than pot"

He waved his fork at Goren as if to tell him to explain it to her while he finished eating.

"Peyote is quite slow growing and you harvest it by cutting the buttons from the root stem. Cut wrong and you kill it, cut right and you stimulate new and more growth. But because it's so particular and because it also contains natural mescaline one way to increase supply is to graft it onto a San Pedro cactus" Goren shrugged. "A bit like a parasite except the San Pedro doesn't suffer and because it's less particular about acidity and climate, it does the hard work of growing for the peyote"

"That is a skill more likely to be learned by someone growing up in a community where it's ancient" said Guthrie. "But what began to narrow us down was a growing concentration of incidents in our State right along the Freeway outside. Which your partner here will tell you from his Narco days often indicates a small, amateur and localised source. All we managed to get out of some kids caught in possession, was they got it from a woman in a club in Flagstaff and a bar down in Sedona"

"Whitney Raybold" muttered Eames.

"Could be. Very general description matches but you know how clothes, make up and a wig can alter appearance. According to one she was hippy sort and the other kids said she was more one of those _Dracula _types each time they saw her" he nodded at Goren. "Your buddy here just might have stumbled into her. The needle in a damn big haystack when you look out there"

"And you targeted Johnnie Belray because?" Eames asked him.

Her look at Goren was significant. He knew Guthrie's answer to that could make or break the situation even though he knew for the second time in a week he was _"innocent"._ Of what Alex now suspected about him.

"Stuck in jail your partner here got given a pile of the old local papers to do the crosswords. Came across three, or was it four, reports about mescaline. Since that girl had raised it with him he did a bit more digging. Realised there was some sort of pattern, the same one we were building up and though he refused to tell Arty Drummond the name, someone else in this town said Whitney had offered mescaline to someone they knew"

Goren looked back at Eames who had a good idea who told him that.

"When Arty called me we realised his dead girl fit with what we knew about a female supplier. He and I got to talking. Who might start to fit the required skill set required to produce mescaline round here? Wasn't a long list and Belray was the best fit. So we started there"

"And the timing?"

Guthrie glanced at her "Do you people know anything up in the Big Maggot…oh I think I get this now…you think your partner gave us the name on account of you being…"

"Lieutenant!" said Goren sharply. "Enough I think"

"Yeah well sorry but that's for you to sort out. All I know is Art Drummond and I came up with a name not him there. And since Art had shot a man looked like he might have killed the girl, you can understand why we didn't sit on the stoop too long jawing about it. With the fresh digging around on that getting started, we were worried if it was Belray doing the dope, he'd empty his cupboards afore we could get there"

"Thank you" said Eames. "What will he get since I don't suppose he's arguing personal use"

"Hardly" snorted Guthrie. "Between us? We found records the dumb ass kept and a stack of cash, which was what he was in it for. He and his lawyer might try to claim some mission or vision movement he was setting up but Arizona has taken down bigger than his lone cult of the whatever. And of course before we came tipping you out of…calling this morning…we also checked other stuff. There's garnish on his wages for child support he fell into trouble with when he hit the booze and looking round the place, he lives pretty high for a man on what he earns. Quantity? He might well get the five year tops"

Eames swallowed hard. She should have seen through that herself at the house. Through that charming picture of Johnnie with his kid on a fishing trip to Colorado or the planned Disney one he told her about. Through the tragedy of his child dying, there might be outstanding medical bills and the rest. Through the very up to date consumer goods she saw. That was the trouble when you stopped thinking with your brain.

Her partner's face said it all. Goren knew what she was thinking right then as he spoke.

"And the murder?"

"Art's your man on that again. No question that perve Harkness was involved. We dug up filthy pictures he took in a space under his bed. Along with other souvenirs we think he stole from people he'd spied on. And a diary thing the brains department are looking at in some sort of code. Why? Do you two think it was Belray who killed her?"

"_Yes"_ said Goren and Eames without hesitation and in unison.

_Perhaps they were back together again after all?_

_**To be continued…**_


	34. Chapter 34

**Sunday 10****th**** October**

_**The Knife And Fork Steakhouse, I – 40**_

Eames waited until Guthrie had gone most of the way across the large dining area, now populated by people dropping by for mid-morning breaks. Not the breakfast he had cleared his plate of and which she and Goren had half eaten.

She looked over at him. Not needing to see his face was these days hidden by that so rapidly greying beard and hair. That badly needed a comb, never mind a cut. Eames didn't need to see it to know what he was thinking or feeling. You could see it in his eyes. She always could. Biggest windows to Goren's soul no matter how well he instinctively controlled expression or body language at times. Or had learned to.

He was waiting for her to speak first and probably expecting the words _"I'm sorry"_ to be first out of her mouth. There was never really excuse for hitting someone. Goren said that once to her a long time ago. It was the time Eames realised that violence of one sort or another had probably occurred in his childhood.

"Why didn't you ask me to go check the newspaper archives for you yesterday Goren? Why did you send Caro?" she asked not able to keep the hint of suspicion from her voice.

"You really mean why didn't I trust you? Seem to keep something from you?"

"Alright then"

Eames wished she hadn't sounded so accusatory again.

"It wasn't about trust Eames" Goren said quietly. "Sheer practicality for her to go. Needed one or two things she couldn't pack in hand luggage and so did I, with some of mine still with the cops"

She glanced at him knowing he had not told the whole truth on that. He was a bad liar at times.

"Still not convinced are you?" he sighed fractionally. "Okay then. In that it is any of your damn…your business Eames, Caro had to go to Flagstaff because they have an office of _Allstate Women's Medical_ there. While you were shopping yesterday she somehow lost or dropped a pack of birth control pills. When you and Ron were looking round the yard with Lewis she was arranging to collect a local prescription from there. Since she was going that way anyway and can read…"

"I see" Eames replied.

She remembered as they came along Main Street, Caroline seemed to have lost something from her purse and returned to a shop they had called in. Wished too she had not seemed so _"sceptical"_ that she had more or less forced him, to have to tell her something so personal as that. Was just glad Goren hadn't sarcastically offered to provide pharmacy receipts or have Caro's _"ob/gyn"_ file released.

"And what happened later didn't exactly give us a lot of chance to talk about it did it Goren?"

"Not really. I only looked at the copies and called Drummond a short time before we left for _The Saguaro_" Goren paused. "And before you ask no I didn't see anything at Johnnie's place that…"

"You wouldn't" Eames snapped. "He's not that stupid is he? Invite in a cop he knows once worked Narco leaving dozens of these Peyote and San Pedro cacti around the place. On my way back I remembered. The slightly odd look on his face Thursday night. When he found out what Whitney said to you and why you understood it"

"And how his reply to the question about her involvement in something like that went round and round before he said it wasn't her style?"

Eames glanced up sharply at him and then remembered. Goren had her notes. She had made pretty full ones since they arrived and he had enough experience reading _"between lines"_ of her note taking style, same as she had his.

"No but now you say it I think I do"

Eames twisted her napkin was starting to shred. "Did you ever…suspect him of something?"

"Not exactly but…"

Goren sat back sharply in his seat as Eames didn't hit him physically, but attacked him verbally.

"What do you mean…_not exactly_? If you thought something was wrong you should have told me. You let me go on…and then…with him" she trailed off knowing where that was heading.

"You want to go on?" her partner asked quietly. "Want us to get into that Alex? Want me to say I assumed you wouldn't go to bed with him? Start passing judgements on your behaviour? Measure them by some absolute moral standard? The only one I have being my own value system of course. Which is never conflicted, always perfect and always decent"

"You really can be a bastard you know Goren" Eames muttered.

"So I've been told more than once. What I was going to say there was there was once or twice yesterday. During that trek across my route…things he was saying… I'm not sure…irritated me, I guess is the word. That long story why they opted to use those pens that day for example…how quick he was to tell me that was cow hair caught in the fence. There was just…just something about him…I couldn't say what"

"I saw that at the time" Eames smiled weakly. "Like you wouldn't know? Did you decide what I did about that coming along in the cruiser? That maybe as the top hand he made sure those pens got used. To be sure those calves trampled his tracks and other evidence? Like any blood spots would say where exactly Whitney was when she was struck?"

"Had crossed my mind. Same as it crossed Lewis' and mine now that his visit Monday night to the VW was to be sure what we saw. That's when he found out I was a cop. We even wonder if part of the reason he was so helpful about getting us to the Nation on Tuesday was so I wasn't around when the body was found. No danger of me perhaps seeing things Art and his bunch missed"

"Then because he knew you hadn't done it and when Ron and I turned up, worried we might be starting to prove that. Why he sent us to look at the Creasy motive and made sure we knew about Sonny" Eames chewed her lip. "Wonder if he knew about Whitney's little shows Janey told us about? Or maybe had seen Sonny's truck before down there? Creeping round to watch couples making out"

"No telling what he knew or didn't. Small town. Lots of secrets people know" Goren finished his coffee. "And he won't be saying. Same as Belray never told you or Ron about Terry Butcher"

"Who?" exploded Eames slightly.

"Stopped raining Alex" he glanced outside where the sun was now shining. "Let's walk back while we got the chance and I'll tell you"

It was on the bridge looking down on the Freeway where Goren told her about Butcher. One of the other hands on the ranch that also _"lived on"_ that they had not met and who might have been, by history and the geography, a suspect for Art Drummond. Something he told Goren in the _Land Cruiser_ yesterday afternoon when he had been discretely pointing out a few things to the Sheriff.

Leaning on the rail as cars and trucks went by beneath them, Eames learned Butcher was the guy Whitney hooked up with after she had Jason and Ed Creasy went off to temporary glory at _Old Miss_. Who she dumped despite his willingness to marry her, as soon as the High School football hero limped back to town. And with whom there had been a mixture of on-going fights and occasional reunions since.

"And when he knew you had not done it Art's thoughts turned to Sonny and this Terry Butcher as possible suspects?"

Goren nodded as they continued their stroll back. "Belray would say nothing to you because the last thing he wanted was attention focussing back on the ranch or people on it. Even if all he did was drug related. And I got the impression he and Butcher are quite close. He got lucky when no-one else mentioned Butcher to you"

"Tell you the strange thing Goren. Had you not been cleared by Drummond yesterday, my next thoughts were going to be on tracking down, whom she might have met there"

Eames pulled her jacket across her with folded arms.

"I know we saw evidence that is a park up spot but if it was a married man or one with money why go there to make out? A man with money would get a room and even though it's fairly remote down there, a local guy and she risked them being seen or their cars spotted. Changing her shoes suggests she intended to cross rough ground when she got there. She headed for those pens deliberately"

"Why my mind was moving to the drug thing Eames. And with what she said to me"

She glanced up at him. "I've said some very mean things to you Bobby. If I'm honest I've thought even worse ones too. I'm sorry. For that and for hitting you. That was wrong of me"

"I understand"

"I know you do" Eames replied. "But there's something…very…I dunno…annoying about that phrase…not the way you said it…just is"

"I know" he frowned slightly. "I empathise? I appreciate what you're saying? I dig?"

She laughed despite herself. "Now we are back to Timothy Leary"

"I forgive you"

"That's what I needed to hear Bobby"

"Come here Alex"

It was like being hugged by a big gentle bear as Bobby held her while she had another little weep, handed her his handkerchief and kept his arm round her all the way back to her room. Acting as a windbreak, to help keep her warm and begin to make her feel a little better. Stayed with her talking through their separate, but very similar conclusions about what might have really happened Monday night and telling her something gave Eames hope.

That there could be a chance of actually proving their theory about what Belray did. As important, maybe more, there was _"hope"_ for them in future. They had survived other things as a team and they would survive this. It was what Bobby said as he tucked the bed cover round her to get some sleep before he left.

_**To be continued…**_


	35. Chapter 35

**Monday 11****th**** October**

_**Creasy's Haulage Yard, Bethlehem**_

The four of them were just standing back doing something it was not really possible to do with the VW before. Admire it. You could never describe it at pretty with it's still ill-matched panels but the rebuilding job Goren and Lewis had been doing as they moved west had improved it. On the not just ugly but mechanically doubtful horror it had been the first time Eames saw it.

Some of that was intentional with the newer panels and the positively sparkling chrome badge and headlamps. Their route as much _"parts finding"_ through various networks as sight seeing and until that morning, Eames had not realised that once they got to LA it was scheduled a _"real make over"._ At a workshop belonged to a guy Lewis did regular distant business with but had never met.

Though quite how that crazy pair's version of _"Pimp My Ride"_ was going to turn out had yet to be settled. Lewis it seemed was in favour more of _"Authenticate My Ride"_ as Caro described his aim to make it as it was built. The original colours of cream and green and if they could find one, the sort of awning fabric unfolded and stretched out when you winched up the roof to be able to stand upright inside. Goren on the other hand wanted some sort of 60's and 70's throwback with a paintjob like they planned when they were finishing college and it would have been _"retro"_ even back then. More _"Haight-Ashbury Floral Paisley"_ or _"Woodstock My Ride"_ as Caroline teased him.

But the deliberate and unexpected improvements, plus what Lewis and three or four locals did most of the previous day did make a difference. Convinced Eames and Caro it might actually make it all the way and with the curtains clean and new seat covers, courtesy of some local seamstresses, it bordered on _"respectable"._

That was when Art Drummond came into the yard in his _Land Cruiser_ but also wearing civilian clothes. His first job to confirm the Detective Eames was free to leave that afternoon.

One of the things she had done while Goren stood outside her door yesterday was start to find a way of getting away as quickly as possible. Would have taken a flight yesterday before she remembered she should probably check with local law enforcement.

As it was, she was going that afternoon and none of the others had tried to talk her out of it. Once Eames was sure she was as _"straightened out"_ with her partner as she could be for now, she wanted to do the rest well away from Bethlehem County and in private.

The wound licking, the continued soul searching and dealing with what she did that had nothing to do with crimes of the public kind. Nor had she told the others she could only get the answer machine at Dave's place and he wasn't picking up his cell either.

The second thing he gave them was self conscious and awkward thanks. For telling the truth of course, but their statements and that of Mr Carver on the shooting of Sonny Harkness had got that fairly quickly ruled a _"clean shoot"._ Though you could see Art wasn't a happy man or one sleeping very well about any of that.

And he had other news he reckoned they would want to know though they had no right to it. One with several of Creasy's men around they should step inside to hear. Though Goren ended up sitting sideways in the open door of the camper to save some room was a crush with four round the small table.

_**1973 VW Westphalia Camper Van**_

"Don't know how much Guthrie told y'all yesterday but it now looks more and more certain it was that sad Sonny kid done things with her" he began. "Put it this way was him did the…um sexual things"

"He said something about photographs" said Goren. "And some kind of notebook?"

"Yeah and I would be ashamed for those to be seen in mixed company even supposing I could show them to you" he was blushing under the white brows and moustache just at the memory.

"Inside the house…and that's another story. There was a big hasp and padlock on his bedroom door Ma used to try and keep him in at night…she knew more about his peeping than she is letting on. Anyways, under the bed in his room and we furnish some jail cells better, we found a hole in the floor. Let down into the crawl way space and he probably crept out times when she thought she had him caged"

"Shit" muttered Lewis who in his job did not come across that kind of twisted corrosion.

"Down there he had a box with all sorts in. Stupid things mostly. But also one ladies ring, one pair of panties and a digital camera. Probably the one a couple some months back reported stolen out of their car in the parking lot and this notebook. Written in a sort of code. Some head doctor says they are trophies. Things he stole belonging to women he peeped on or got obsessed about. But doesn't seem he did anything to any of them. Either that or there's a lot round my town never said things to me"

"He probably wouldn't" said Caro. "If he is a true voyeur or more likely became one with the help of emasculation from his mother he'd be too scared to do anything or got his pleasure from watching. Might have needed that to get sexually aroused. Because he knew or rather was taught, touching was dirty and wrong"

Drummond turned to her with a frown.

"She's a head doctor" shrugged Lewis. "Kind of anyway"

"Really?" he sounded surprised "I had you pegged as maybe a baby doctor Doctor Reese or…um…women's things. And what you say is more or less what they said. And why he took those pictures. No question it was Whitney's…um…parts he took pictures of…and his own. Um…let's just say those little camera's can get places even a movie one can't"

"That hair in the wire?" asked Eames suddenly just a cop again.

"That was his. Fresh enough thanks to you folk to match that. When we scouted there again Saturday, we found tyre tracks match his truck down the road. The Res side of the ranch gate not the town and motel one"

Art stroked his moustache. "Anyhow the smart folk had little trouble with the code and while they are still working on the earlier stuff seems to go back years, the recent pages have been translated. Dirty stuff about what Billy did to Whitney though the head…the experts don't think he was a total loony. That _Billy _was his name for his JT, his pecker…his…um…"

"Penis?" suggested Caro.

"Oh" said Eames in a spellbound tone "So that's what a pecker is. I always wondered"

"Y'all gonna make fun?" growled the older man.

"No. Sorry Sheriff" said Caro.

"Suppose y'all worked that one out as well. What he was yelling"

"It was her educated guess" said Goren. "His way of disassociation from his actions. From Sonny's guilt about his sexual urges. Even quite normal ones for a guy to have. He didn't get erections or have sexual feelings. It was _Billy _who had those urges. Hence _Billy_ who _done her_ as he shouted"

"Sure y'all didn't get a copy of the report?" muttered Drummond. "Not sure it makes sense to me and I did"

"Don't say a word Caro" said Lewis with a blush. "I didn't get over having it explained over supper myself yet. Never mind being asked if I ever gave my di…mine a name"

"That's two names of yours we have to find out then" Eames teased him.

Caro had back footed both Lewis and Goren last evening with that one when they all finally met up and went to eat. How it wasn't unusual for boys to do in puberty. When their penis suddenly seemed to take on a _"life of its own"_ at times.

"One thing y'all don't know" said Art with a smile of satisfaction. "Sonny never covered his tracks with that brush"

"Pardon?" frowned Goren.

"Couldn't have or if he did it was damn difficult for him. My, my, the city folk didn't work it all out after all then. Though I'm kind of assuming you reckon Johnnie bashed her head in when they fell out over the mescaline we are sure she was helping him to spread around"

"More or less" said Eames quietly.

"Don't fret yourself ma'am. You couldn't have known Sonny fell out of a tree when he was a kid. Which is why he couldn't cut that branch. It did come from that thicket by the way"

"Don't keep them in suspense Sheriff" Caro smiled at Goren. "Or they'll be going out there again for another look and I'll have him there tossing and turning beside me another night"

_**To be continued…**_


	36. Chapter 36

**Monday 11****th**** October**

_**The Barber Shop, Main St, Bethlehem**_

Goren sat or more stretched out in the chair like that of a dentist. Most of his hair and a lot of the beard on the floor being swept up as he waited with a hot scented towel wrapped around the remains. He might have gone into court on Friday looking like two parts of _"The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" _but this afternoon he had every intention of going as just the third. At least the closest possible to it, given the cards his genes had dealt him. And _John Stephen_ tailoring usually worked in his favour.

Without the medical reports on Sonny Harkness he and Eames would never have worked out he did not cut that switch. The fall from the tree as a kid had badly broken his upper right arm and his shoulder. So he couldn't lift the hand that side higher than ninety degrees to the ground. Would have had to cut that switch left handed to ever reach it and even then it would be a stretch for a man only five feet nine.

As Drummond had said, Sonny would have chosen a lower switch of juniper, except they lacked such dense needles to be so effective. But for a man closer to six feet it was a much easier _"reach"._ His on-going enquiries meant Art was right to say nothing else, but he and Eames reckoned they could explain it in two possible ways.

By daylight Tuesday morning Belray found the hair in the wire and then made sure there was evidence on the ground for Drummond to find. Evidence of a man _"covering his tracks"_ away from the body and which led all the way to the fence where the fair hair was. Perhaps better _"sign"_ than a 140/150 pound Sonny might have left with his shoes. Except Drummond never saw that on Tuesday.

_Perhaps because it wasn't there then?_ Which left the other possibility. When the Sheriff went off convinced it was _"the size 13's"_ who did it, Belray did it subsequently. He knew the case against Goren was falling apart and needed to make sure everything pointed to Sonny. Not anyone on the ranch. He knew full well his uncle would find that and he could fool the old man. Eames said she no longer believed a word Belray said when he made out he knew little or nothing of tracking. And it was he, after all _"found"_ that switch so helpfully for them all on Saturday morning.

As the razor began to glide over his skin, Goren pondered what was quite a common feature with some killers. That they would insert themselves into the scene and the investigation. He lost sight of that with Belray almost as much as Eames had. He tried to tell her that and just hoped Alex would see that in time and _"forgive"_ herself. She had paid a very high price to come to Arizona and help him.

At the counter he got that _"anything else sir"_ hint as he smiled and said _"No"._ Thinking of the nice parts about those Saturday trips to _Ducatti's_ with Dad and Frank. Then he stepped outside. Not to the ice-cream parlour or toyshop, but into the SUV where Caro waited for him.

_**Delta Flight 1570/530 (Phoenix/LAG, New York, via Atlanta)**_

As she asked the cabin steward for a second drink, Eames wondered briefly how that business over Doug Kersey's watch might have panned out. She never thought to ask Danny Ross and ironically, if only briefly via some tarmac, she was getting to visit Georgia after all.

Closer than Bobby had yet got to Ty Cobb's home turf anyway. Though when this trip was over maybe he would finally make the time to go see the resting place of _The Georgia Peach_. How long before that bastard Belray got chance to travel again still seemed very uncertain. Thanks to all that had gone on, getting a murder conviction on him could prove to be very difficult.

It all fit so well but as Ron had reminded Goren last evening, _"knowing"_ as a cop and _"proving"_ to a jury could be a long way apart. And as she sipped what she had no intention of seeing as a real answer to her problems, Eames just hoped in a few months time they would not be back in Arizona. As witnesses having to help build a weak case for a DA had better be sharper than that Tim Bayard. She didn't want to look that smiling face again and have to tell the world she'd coupled like a bitch in heat with a drug-dealing killer. And enjoyed every damn minute of it at the time.

In time perhaps, she would have to consider more formal ways of dealing with the issue of how that felt. How she felt her judgement and her credibility as a cop was seriously undermined. That she didn't _"see"_ things she should have, might have. Knowing Bobby and Ron did not either was no help. Caro was out or would count herself out as a therapist, for obvious reasons. But she might know of someone in New York would suit her. Someone she should probably speak to about other issues too. Ones Eames knew she had avoided thinking too hard about or saying out loud to anyone.

Consolation, if not solution, would be to see that bastard locked up the rest of his life. Drummond had hinted at something in Sonny's weird _"journal"_. Implied he saw something that night might point to Johnnie Belray. It suggested that as he left the scene, Sonny had seen Belray in the area.

So frustrating not to know what it was, though when they talked about it they all knew the ravings of a self confessed sexual deviant could be made into chopped liver by a smart defence attorney. But it was strange what Lewis told Drummond in the VW. Something he had been thinking about from time to time and especially since Belray turned out to be _"a bad man"_ as he put it.

That phrase _"bright white"_ that Sonny had yelled once or twice just before he was shot. Almost as if _"bright white"_ was another _"person"_ like _"Billy"._ What Lewis had been wondering was if Johnnie saw Sonny, if Sonny saw Johnnie. Or rather his truck, heading up the ranch road towards the yard. Because Lewis knew something about that truck no one else did until that moment.

On Monday night the onside tail light reflector was bust. It had to be because he noticed it Tuesday when he and Bobby borrowed it. And before they left the Navajo Nation land and not wanting to get stopped in the darkness by a cop, he'd done a temporary fix. They all sat silent in the VW as he explained.

How he had his tool kit with him in case he had to strip out a replacement water pump. Lewis and his toolbox were like Goren and his leather folder. They almost went everywhere together. So while Goren was off looking at sweat lodges or something, he'd fixed over one of the pieces of thick plastic film he always carried for such events. So when he left the Dodge in the yard for Johnnie the light would be shining red, not the _"bright white"_ it would have been the previous night. The way it would have looked to Sonny, if he saw it drive away along the ranch road.

Eames could see Drummond looked sceptical, but the only other thing they knew was Belray was wearing a distinctive white shirt that night around the time of the murder. Was wearing it under a jacket when he arrived at the yard to see Bobby and Lewis and that had been found at the cottage. It was being examined for any blood evidence. Though it was hard to understand why he didn't just burn it.

Except Eames had a fair idea. When she heard what the shirt was like. It was one he was wearing in a picture taken with his son. Apparently had been the birthday gift from the boy and maybe it was sentiment on that bastard's part he could not get rid of it so easily.

She swallowed the last of the drink and rested her head back, thinking it was hard to believe that _"smiling villain"_ didn't know about what bleach did to blood evidence. _The only thing to smile inwardly about?_ The expression on Lewis' face when he finished speaking to Sheriff Drummond and Bobby told him he had better go now and make a proper statement about that at the police station.

_**The Courthouse, Rider Park**_

Judge Thomas had scheduled the bail hearing on John Jenkins Belray just ahead of his own formal dismissal. Goren had no wish to be there any more than Caro and Lewis, who waited outside in the hall with him. There were a clutch of local people came out when it was over and there was quite a buzz amongst them.

Someone Goren did not recognise came over to tell them _"he"_ was remanded to custody. No surprise given the ongoing investigation of what money Belray might have stashed where and according to the elderly bow legged man, _"the legal fella said other arrests is pending"._ That would fit with the indication they had Belray kept notes of distributors and the like in his place.

Goren was never sure with guys like Johnnie. Whether that did speak to an arrogance they would not get caught or proof of stupidity underlying it all. Why, for one thing, would Belray ever have got someone as unreliable as Whitney seemed to be, to work for him? It was the old timer before he left, also told him mention was made of _"other serious charges and investigations"_. The good folk of Bethlehem had put two and two together from that and now wondered if Whitney was going to be added to the tally in time.

As he walked into court where a small group still waited, Goren concluded maybe the Sheriff's office wasn't leaking so hard as it was last week and one reason for that was still in court. Former Deputy, now unemployed Gary Newcombe, took a moment to recognise him as he took the end seat, front row left after ushering in Caro and Lewis ahead of him.

Judge Thomas when he appeared made some remark he now looked more the part of what he was. And judging by that suit, they did pay New York cops too much. But what mattered to him were the words _"you are a free man Detective Goren"_ and the ones of apology for all that had happened. Wished him well on the rest of his trip as the court rose and finally it was all over.

Or so Bobby thought.

_**To be continued…**_


	37. Chapter 37

**Monday 11****th**** October**

_**The Holding Cells, The Courthouse, Rider Park**_

Shaking the hand of an apologetic Gary Newcombe as the court rose and people began to file out was not a difficult thing for Goren to do. Harder, was to resist the temptation to tell him he should write a letter of apology to every police force in the country, because it was people like him made all their lives more difficult. That or suggest it was his wife and two small kids he gathered Newcombe had, he should really apologise to.

When what turned out to be Belray's lawyer came over and said his client had requested a private meeting with him or Detective Eames if she were around, it was different. For one thing he had no wish to set eyes on the man and Goren was wary. That it was an attempt to provoke something from him or learn something from him Belray could make later use of. And needless to say the lawyer was none too thrilled at the prospect either. Even if he had no authority as a cop in this jurisdiction, he might be a future witness against his client.

It was highly irregular to say the least and Goren didn't need to ask what Lewis and Caro thought of the idea. She had been concerned about him especially on Sunday, in the privacy of their room, about the effect this had on him. Most especially, for his relationship with Alex. The only time he was ever aware of her _"doing her job"_ a little where he was concerned. For a short while, though later as he tossed and turned in bed a lot of the night, it was just her presence next to him was as re-assuring as anything she said.

He spoke with Drummond about it and the more senior DA than Bayard assigned the case. It would mean ruling out for the future any testimony of his but both were content anything he had to say about Belray could be sourced from other places. That was when he learned for example, that Kate at _"The Silver Spur"_ had seen Whitney pass what looked like pills in there. What she didn't tell Eames and Carver when they called for fear of her own situation as the proprietor. So they had others who could link her to some kind of dealing without him. And almost all his interactions with Belray were in the company of others like Lewis. What decided Goren to go in the end was not himself, but Eames.

This was his one chance if not to deck the guy on her behalf, to at least kick him in the balls metaphorically and wipe that smile off his face. And with no one else there it was the word of a cop with an unblemished record against that of a caught red handed, or at least cactus handed, dealer. There was also something Belray and his lawyer did not know yet, though they would very soon as Drummond built the case against him for murder. It fit the bill perfectly.

So he went down to the three small cells, one of which he had been in a few days ago. Belray was the only one in them. Drummond dismissed the court guard and Goren picked up his chair and carried it over.

Set it down, unfastened his jacket and sat down.

"Good Lord Bobby" smiled Belray. "I would never have recognised you. Nice suit. You look younger without the beard too"

"What do you want Belray?" he asked quietly

Thinking much the same to see Belray in one himself and suspecting come trial that hair would be cut not just tied back.

"No need to sound so hostile" he shrugged. "Just wanted to say sorry. That you, Lewis, Ron and especially Alex got caught up in my little sideline"

"Mr Carver is an attorney. Eames and I are cops. It goes with the territory. Or rather people like you do"

Goren consciously relaxed his hands to not grip them together so tight.

"Oh I know I've been naughty and greedy Bobby but I am slightly surprised. You of all people should know mescaline isn't the same as LSD or heroin. Why it doesn't carry the same penalties"

"I know that. I even respect the rights of the Navajo and other people to use it as they have for many years. Different thing when its kids in uncontrolled situations and to line someone's pockets" he paused. "Is that it? Only I have things to do and you places or rather remand wing, to go to"

"So which hurts you more Bobby? That I turned out to be a bad man or you think I only screwed your partner to check out if you or Alex spotted something wrong at my place?"

Goren looked at him for a long moment.

"None of it _hurts_ me as you put it. You know your trouble Belray? You make the mistake of believing every one thinks like you. And if you think you will provoke me into arranging to get the keys for your cell and for people to look away while you slip on a wet floor you are sadly mistaken"

He shrugged. "Though I will stroke your enormous ego by telling you rarely have I been so tempted. But Eames would not approve"

"I'm flattered._ Eames_. Interesting how suddenly she's that" Belray laughed softly. "That how you've kept your hands off her all these years? Between women like Caroline. And it wasn't just about that. If that's any help to her"

"So you know Belray? She shared with me that little conversation you had with her. The one about the nature of our relationship? The one we both suspect was really to test out if you could, if necessary, provoke division between us. Perhaps that tells you how unsuccessful you were?"

It had been one of the most awkward parts of the conversation between them. When he'd held Alex in his arms on the bridge and she felt she had to tell him that. But he somehow made her smile. Admitting his thought about her _"that way"_ was the same. Five seconds and about five years ago. _Or have I insulted you again now Alex? Should I say I thought about it for longer?_

Goren stood up and said. "Just one thing before I go. Why did you ever let a girl like Whitney in on your little scheme? Just between us of course. I expect your lawyer will advise you to plead guilty on the supply and throw yourself, your bills, your dead kid and your living one on the mercy of the court in mitigation"

For the first time he saw the man flinch at mention of his children and that almost permanent smile fade a little.

"I probably will but since it's between us I had no choice. The little tart found out for herself. Whitney bless her wasn't as dumb as she looked. She called by one day after Terry had been unable to resist her charms again. Came round when I was grafting some new stock in the greenhouse and knew or worked out what I was doing"

"Stolen stock from Texas or your own?"

Belray laughed "Ah so you worked out where I got my first plants"

"Eames did. Remembered when you went to Texas to fetch that bull and you said something to her about going to the Laredo rodeo. Only place to find peyote in any large quantity these days is South West Texas. Almost has endangered species status I believe. Thanks to poor cutting and idiots digging it up who don't know to handle it correctly"

"Yeah that is where I got my initial rootstock. Brought it back with old _Nimitz._ Anyway Whitney wanted in or she'd open her mouth as wide as she opened her legs round town"

"Bad mistake. I'm guessing it was her unauthorised expeditions and casual sales began to focus the likes of Guthrie closer and closer to this area"

"Could be"

"That why you killed her?"

Belray laughed. "Don't be foolish Bobby. I know they are trying to pin that on me. Will never stick and I didn't do it. Sonny did. Or are you bought into the same fantasy ole Art has? He plugged her and I slugged her? Now let me think…this time last week the Sheriff was 24 hours from coming up with reasons why you did the same. A fact I expect might come out in court"

"Don't be so sure Johnny" he smiled. "I gather there are some mighty suspicious bleach spots on the sleeve of a white shirt of yours"

"Oh this would be the one I was wearing Monday night. The same one I had on the day I caught my arm on some wire"

Goren rested his hands on the back of the chair. "Ah I didn't know that. But it's still the one you were wearing when you hid down behind that old tree trunk at the pens while Sonny raped a dying Whitney. When the bark caught on that fancy embroidered yoke and pulled out one of the threads"

"What thread?" he frowned. "Oh you mean that one you saw on Saturday. Hope you told the cops about that Bobby. Or it could have blown away by now. Weather we've been having the last couple of days"

"I did and when Art went to look for it Sunday morning it was gone"

"There you go" he smiled. "See how badly they do the job round here Bobby?"

"Don't be too quick to criticise Johnny" he said quietly. "Because the red thread you went down there to pull out of that post, was not the one from your shirt. What you got rid of was fibre Art and I pulled out of a blanket he keeps in the Toyota on Saturday afternoon"

There was no reply from inside the cell.

"See while you were playing the good host to your guests Art and I were photographing and bagging and replacing that thread. With the Reverend Jones as an independent witness to what we did. When I told the Sheriff about it, he suspected someone else on the ranch. But as only nine of us knew about it, Art _figured _as you say round here, to lay a little trap. Just to see what happened"

Goren glanced at his watch.

"I must go Johnny. Let you think about that and why you really should have got rid of that shirt. Or not said it was _"almost a year"_ since you were _"anywhere near"_ that corral in the statement you made last Tuesday when Whitney was found. Think about that and what modern technology can do on fibre matching and fading"

He picked up the chair and walked away a step or two before turning to see a very different looking Johnny Belray.

"Now what was that saying of yours…oh yeah…_unsuspecting prairie rat meets wily rattlesnake. _Buenos tardes Mr Belray"

As Goren got to the end of the hall there was a low moan from the cell behind him. Sounded more painful than a kick in the balls.

"_Side retired Alex"_ he said silently as he went through the outer door.

_**To be continued…**_


	38. Chapter 38

**11****th****/12 October**

**_Room 210, The Traveller's Rest_**

Lewis turned up the volume on the TV. The commentary was never that critical during a _Monster Truck Destruction Derby_, but a little more masked the sounds from next door and made him feel less of a pervert. They really should make hotel walls thicker or people show a little consideration for their neighbours.

He could understand Bob and Caro wanting to give each other _"something to remember"_ for the next couple of weeks when the road trip would, or should, be over. Just wished they were being quicker and quieter about it.

It wasn't the sex as much as the other sounds, which were so distracting. The laughing and giggling, as much from Bob as her, which were so hard for Lewis to work out. He began to wonder if they had Chris Rock hidden in the closet. _To leap out and tell them a few jokes between laps of the bed?_

Though it could work to his advantage in the morning. With his buddy sleep deprived and mellow, Lewis might get away with turning right and west out of the parking lot. Have Bob in Vegas before he knew it. Forget Winslow and Petrified Forests and everything to the east and south Goren reckoned they _"must see"._

In North Carolina, there was one truck left _"standing"_ at the end, while in Room 209 they were going into overtime. _Or maybe overdrive?_

"Chequered flag!" muttered Lewis. "At last!"

**_Eames' Apartment, Brooklyn_**

It came as no surprise to her when she finally got through the main door of her building to find a set of keys in the lobby mailbox. Eames had tried to contact Dave Seaborn for the best part of Sunday and when she called his work partner just in case there was some problem, he had been off hand with her and vague about where Dave might be. She dumped her bags and the kit CSU gave her, in the hall.

Right away she could see a clear space on the bathroom shelf he had used and there was a box with things of hers from his place in Queens on the kitchen table. Eames had already noticed that her set of keys for Dave's apartment she left on the hooks by the door was gone.

She pulled some water from the icebox and took several large swallows between reading the note he left behind. More hurt than angry. Not about the fact he'd been trying to call her most of Saturday evening through to Sunday morning. While she was dancing with, flirting with and making out with another man. The note said he was giving her _"the benefit of the doubt"_ what she was doing out until at least 4 am Arizona time. It was the fact she never called him before that. To tell him what happened at _The Desert Inn Motel_ and that they were being moved.

He had _"the pleasure"_ of discovering that from some cop who answered that number and told him they had all been relocated four hours earlier after a man got shot. And that, to Dave, told him all he really needed to know about where he stood in her life. If he was wrong he was very sorry, but he wished her well.

Eames was dumped. She expected it. She deserved it. It saved her finding reason to end it with Dave. Without telling him the real reason why. As she made her way to her bedroom with the water bottle she stopped by the bookcase just inside the living room door. Took one from it and continued on her way. Like she would really need something dull to send her to sleep as exhausted and drained as she was by then?

_**Room 209, The Traveller's Rest**_

"Nhng"

"Uh?"

Caro shifted against him and they both woke up or woke each other up, trying to unconsciously move from an uncomfortable position. One their bodies had either got into or never got out of once they were done with each other. Because the bed was still something of a wreck around them.

There was a certain amount of sleepy but automatic pilot sorting out and getting comfortable. Goren switched out the lights and snuggled up.

"I had an idea earlier" he yawned warming his front on her back and tucking the covers round his own.

"I noticed" she said as she cuddled the arm he had round her. "Very good one too. And in the execution"

"Not that Caro. About when Lewis and I are done in LA"

"Mexico?"

"No. Least not with him. He really does have to get back to New York" he wriggled a little more until everything felt perfect. "I was thinking about your birthday end of the month"

"Yeah and I was kind of hoping you'd be there Rob"

He smiled. Caro rarely put expectations on him and there were times he almost wished she did it more. As much as he'd wished previous women in his life had done it less. Any contradiction or _"fault"_ in that probably did rest with him, as much as any of them.

"Me too. I just wondered. You never got much vacation time this year. Could you take some then?"

"To help you sell that camper or stand in lines at _Disneyland_? Thanks but no thanks"

"It does sort of involve the VW" he felt her body tense and then relax against his as he went on.

"I was thinking about us making a little trip in it. From LA to San Francisco? Coastal Highway is supposed to be beautiful. The Getty Villa? Hearst Castle? Stop at Monterey? Read our Steinbeck in _Cannery Row_? Get locked up in Alcatraz together?"

"Finishing off no doubt with either _The 49ers_ or _The Raiders_?" she asked sceptically.

"Could be" Goren admitted with a little smile she couldn't see.

"Hmm"

That was not necessarily a bad sign. She liked football. A lot of sports in fact. And not just the indoor kind for two people.

"For your birthday?" Goren went on nuzzling her shoulder. "I wondered about us cutting over to Yosemite? See if it's as beautiful as the _Ansell Adams_ pictures we both like? Would be if you are there with me baby"

"Careful Rob. Corn is heavy in cans and I can hear rattling"

He could hear the smile in her voice as she said it.

"You are not planning on us climbing _El Capitan_ are you?"

"You have to be joking Caro" he snorted. "Last vertical thing I climbed was the ladder to a top bunk I lost the toss for"

"Where was that?"

"A wagon lit from Berlin through to Paris. Luckily no one was murdered on the train that night"

"They wouldn't be. _The Orient Express_ never went to Berlin. Okay. So you got me a little interested" she yawned.

"Good" he smiled closing his eyes.

Thinking of the fall meadows in Yosemite, of waterfalls and how the pull out bed in the camper would be really _"cosy"_ with Caro in a way it never was with Lewis.

**_Eames' Apartment, Brooklyn_**

As she slept, discarded beside Eames on the bed was a book called _"The Psychology Of Crime and Criminals"._ It was one of Goren's favourite texts and one he got her quite soon after they were first partnered with each other. For her birthday.

At the time she had still to be totally convinced it was going to work. This Robert Goren was quite unlike any cop she ever worked with. You heard things from the bizarre and slightly worrying about him, to the sort left you open mouthed with admiration. And Eames would not deny words like _"crazy"_ and _"genius"_ could still go through her mind in the space of the same ten seconds.

When she unwrapped the rather unexpected birthday present Eames found on her desk that morning, she had tried to show suitable pleasure and gratitude. Between wondering what kind of idiot or social misfit would think that a suitable gift at all. Her own fault for expressing polite interest in his interests she supposed.

It was only later Eames realised it was as much as joke on her. When Bobby was treating her to a great lunch uptown and with the menu, the waiter bought a beautiful bouquet of flowers and a gift-wrapped bottle of her favourite perfume. She never did find out how Goren found out what she liked to wear for special occasions and it was the first time she saw that side to him.

Underneath the smarts and inside that large frame, was a very sweet and thoughtful guy and, she was realising, a rather vulnerable one in some ways. It was over that lunch she had that _"five second"_ thought she admitted to that creep Belray. To wonder, as Bobby explained some esoteric fact about Chinese food, what he would be like as a lover. Before dismissing it for all sorts of reasons.

On top of Goren's folder, the book was open at the chapter about the nature and behaviour of a narcissist.

_**To be continued…**_


	39. Chapter 39

**Tuesday 12****th**** October**

_**North Kinsley/West 2**__**nd**__** St, Winslow, AZ**_

"_Hello" said the distant female voice sounded half asleep._

"Alex? It's Bobby"

_"Oh hi. Sorry…I um…fell asleep on the sofa"_

Goren smiled a little. In the circumstances of the last week that was a good thing.

"Sorry I woke you"

_"That's okay. Big late lunch"_

He ticked off another thing from his mental list of _"good signs"._

"Just…um…thought I'd see…you know…how you were"

_"Okay"_

That was far from convincing but Goren wasn't about to push the issue and get her mad.

_"Bobby? Are you all right? Where are you? Tell me you didn't break down again"_

"I'm standing on a corner in Winslow, Arizona" he replied

_Eames smiled. Lewis lost the battle on direction and Vegas._

_"A corner or _'the'_ corner?"_

"_The_ corner of course"

_"What's it like?"_

"Impressive. Least the mural is"

_"And did a real girl in a flat bed Ford slow down?" asked his partner back in New York._

"My Lord she did. But she was a lady of about seventy who cussed me like a Marine because she thought I wanted to cross the _dang_ street"

_Eames laughed. It probably wasn't true but strange things had a way of happening to Bobby at times._

Goren had achieved the desired effect with a partial truth.

"I called about the women on my mind Alex. The line to own me never got started and the one to stone me stretches all the way round this block. But it's one I was thinking of most. The one once said she's a friend of mine"

_"I still am" Alex said gently as she realised he would still be worrying about that._

"That's good. Please don't tell me to take it easy though"

_"I won't" Eames paused. "Bobby? Do you have a couple of minutes? For us to talk?"_

He looked over the street to where the engine of the VW was running, Lewis not looking best pleased, wanting to get away and drumming his fingers on the steering wheel to _Motorhead._ That was appropriate.

Goren turned his back. "Of course I do Alex"

_**To be concluded…**_

_Note:__ If you don't "get" the conversation between Alex and Bobby check out _"Take It Easy"_ by The Eagles and the physical marker to the song created in Winslow, AZ._


	40. Chapter 40

_**Postscript**_

**Monday 25****th**** October**

**Major Case Squad Room**

Eames looked at the latest postcard from Goren sent a few days before. Showing a snow clad _El Capitan._ He had continued to send them as before and in the last two weeks, to call her every couple of days.

Even since Caro had joined him in LA for the last part of the road trip. He wrote almost poetically about the beauty of Yosemite but then Bobby always did have quite a facility with words. And she could not begrudge him the happiness, which must be behind the ones in the last few cards.

She doubted she would do as his _"PS"_ suggested. _"Watch out for us at the game Monday night"._ Eames had her second appointment with someone Caro had recommended, who seemed to be helping her with lots of things.

"_Trust you to take a woman to a football game for her birthday Goren"_ she thought. _"Very romantic"_

Eames turned to the papers on her desk. Relating to the efforts of the City of New York to extradite one Charles "Buck" Masters from Georgia. For the murder of Doug Kersey. File _"06/MC/601/AE-RG"._

_**Candlestick Park, San Francisco, CA**_

No matter how many times you re-named it or _"Pac–Bell"_ it would always be _"The Stick"_ to the people of this city. One of those occasions when, despite all efforts since the then _"New York Giants"_ re-located their baseball team, it was living up to its reputation. For swirling wind and mist on a fall night.

In the parking lot sat a VW Westphalia due to be dropped off tomorrow at its new owners. In its sparkling livery of acid green, pale pink and black. Liberally sprinkled with rainbows and daisies.

He had not said _"told you so"_ to Lewis when they found a buyer for it in hardly any time at all. If only _The 49ers_ were finding _The Seahawks_ defence so easy to deal with.

Next to him Caro groaned as they failed to make third and eight.

"He's not Joe Montana or Steve Young is he?" she muttered.

"Should persuade Gerry Rice out of retirement" Goren replied sliding his arm round her shoulders.

Just hoped he didn't fumble or leave incomplete his own three and eight. Something he needed to tell Caro.

Three words. Eight letters.

**THE END**


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